Seeds of Hope
by SageTelgar
Summary: Libby Jordan and her cousin, Jasper, are arrested with their best friend Monty for stealing from the greenhouse. When they're sent to the ground with the other prisoners, Libby's botanical knowledge and pragmatism prove extremely useful. Slight canon divergence. Eventual Bellamy/OC. Lots of plant nerdiness.
1. Chapter 1

Libby was playing checkers with her cousin, Jasper, in the common area when the guards marched in and started grabbing prisoners.

"Hey, wait!" Libby leapt to her feet when one of them grabbed Jasper. "None of us is eighteen! What are you doing?"

"Chancellor's orders," the guard said.

"Are you going to float us? What's happening?"

"Chancellor's orders."

"You said that." Another guard grabbed Libby from behind, and she tried to elbow him in the gut. "What's going on? Are you going to float all of us?"

"Hold out your right hand."

"Why? Ow!" Libby's right arm was wrenched from her side against her will, and another guard clapped a white bracelet around it. Needles on the bracelet's interior jabbed into Libby's skin. "What the hell?"

"Quiet."

Jasper, Libby, and the rest of the prisoners were frog-marched through the bowels of the Ark, through hallways that Libby didn't recognize.

Libby tried stepping on her captor's feet, but he was wearing heavy boots. Her arms were pinned behind her back, so she couldn't elbow him. She squirmed, but his grip was tight. She couldn't crane her neck around to bite him.

"Stop it," he said, twisting her wrist painfully.

The prisoners were taken through what appeared to be an airlock, into a large, round space lined with seats. Libby was shoved into one such seat and roughly belted in. Jasper was in the seat right beside her; that was something to be thankful for.

"You okay?" Jasper asked.

"Physically, more or less," Libby said.

The guards left the round room, which was filled with other teenaged prisoners, strapped into their seats.

"What the hell is this?"

"Are we all being floated?"

"This isn't legal!"

"Tell us what's going on!"

But the guards remained silent. The airlock doors shut, and the prisoners were left alone.

"Monty!" Jasper called for his best friend. "Monty, can you hear me?"

"Jasper!"

Libby craned her neck to the right, and saw Monty's familiar dark hair. "Monty, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine! I gotta pee, though. They caught me on my way to the bathroom."

Those who heard Monty's remark chuckled.

The other prisoners called out to friends, trading greetings, reassurances, and theories. Suddenly, the ship jolted sharply. Many people screamed.

Libby clutched Jasper's hand. "What the hell was that?"

"I think it was the atmosphere," said Jasper.

The wide screens of the wall crackled to life, and Chancellor Jaha's face filled the screen. There was a chorus of boos around the room.

"Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now," said Jaha. "You are being given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. We have no idea what you will face down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Candidly, your crimes have made you expendable."

"Your dad's a dick, Wells!" someone shouted.

"Those crimes will be forgiven," Chancellor Jaha said, " and your records wiped clean. We have carefully selected your drop site. Before the final war, Mount Weather was a military base built inside a mountain. It is supposedly stocked with enough non-perishable food to sustain three hundred people for two years."

"Go Finn!" someone shouted.

Libby craned her neck, and saw the infamous Finn "Spacewalker" Collins floating free through the cabin. She spotted her friend Octavia Blake across the room; Octavia was staring at Finn with an admiring grin on her face.

"Your one responsibility is to stay alive," said Chancellor Jaha, oblivious that the delinquents weren't paying attention to him. "We will monitor—"

There was a small explosion outside, and the ship lurched. The screens went black, and the lights in the dropship went out. Several people screamed, Libby included.

"Shouldn't we have parachutes?" shouted Libby.

"Probably! But this thing's a hundred years old, right?" Jasper hollered back.

Between the freefall and the fear, Libby felt nauseous.

Abruptly, the ship slammed to a halt.

"Parachutes deployed," Jasper said weakly.

Some of the lights came back on. There were screams of horror when the bodies on the floor became visible. One of them—Finn—struggled to sit up. He looked scared.

"Stay where you are!" someone shouted. "Wait until we land!"

Nobody moved, but fearful murmuring broke out.

After what seemed like hours, there was another jolt; the ship had landed. The lights flickered, and the sound of the ship's engines stopped.

"Weird," said Jasper. "No machine noises."

Libby fumbled at her seatbelt. "C'mon, let's go."

Everyone else was freeing themselves from their seats, too. A girl with light blond hair rushed to the two prone bodies on the floor.

"Hold my hand, so we don't get separated," Jasper said.

Libby rolled her eyes. "Where would I get lost?" She took his hand, though.

Monty appeared on Libby's other side, his eyes alight with excitement. "C'mon, guys! The ground awaits!"

There was a veritable mob trying to get down the ladder, so Libby, Jasper, and Monty were forced to wait a few minutes. Octavia descended the ladder just ahead of Libby. Halfway down, Octavia stopped, and Libby almost kicked her in the head.

"Move it, 'Tavia," Libby said, but Octavia was frozen, her eyes fixed on something Libby couldn't see.

"Bellamy?" Octavia jumped the rest of the way down the ladder and pushed through the crowd below. Libby made it to the floor just in time to see Octavia forcibly hug a guy in a guard's uniform.

People in the crowd were talking about them.

"That's Octavia Blake—the girl they found hidden in the floor!" someone said.

Others near the front of the crowd were apparently making less kind remarks, for Octavia whirled around.

"Do you mind? I haven't seen my brother in a year!" she snapped.

"Nobody has a brother!" someone called out.

Jasper and Monty joined Libby on the floor, and they tried to move toward the front of the ship.

"So that's the famous brother," Jasper murmured to Libby.

"Honestly, I expected him to look like Apollo, the way she talks about him," Libby said. Bellamy was good-looking, certainly, but Apollo the sun god would be bright and golden, not dark and grim-looking. Bellamy could be Hades, maybe.

Monty snorted.

Bellamy was talking in Octavia's ear. Slowly, Octavia's face broke into a wide grin. She nodded vigorously, and Bellamy returned her smile. He reached for a long lever on the wall.

"I guess that opens the door?" Libby said.

"Stop!" said an imperious voice.

Heads turned, and the blond girl from upstairs was pushing her way through the crowd. "Don't open the door. The air might be toxic."

"If the air's toxic, we're dead anyway," Bellamy said. He pulled the lever.

The door lowered slowly, like the drawbridge of a castle in one of the Ark's old books. Bright daylight lanced through the opening.

Cool, fresh air brushed Libby's face. It smelled like the inside of the greenhouse. She inhaled deeply. If she was going to die breathing this stuff, it wasn't such a bad way to die.

Octavia hesitantly stepped out onto the door-turned-ramp. The crowd behind her pressed forward; Libby was almost lifted off her feet by the crush. She couldn't see what was happening at the front. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw green. So much green.

Octavia's voice pierced the air, loud and jubilant: "We're back, bitches!"

The crowd surged forward. They poured down the ramp and into the bright day, whooping and leaping. Most of them had been confined to cells for a year or more; none of them had ever had so much space to move around in. It was intoxicating.

Libby was in serious danger of being trampled. Recalling something she'd read in a book, she stuck her elbows into the mass of human body and lifted her feet. Amazingly, it worked: the crowd carried her right along. Being short had its advantages.

When they reached the bottom of the ramp, Libby set her feet down again and staggered free. She gazed around in awe, mouth agape. It was beautiful, like the biggest greenhouse she could possibly imagine. So those were trees—tall and straight and laced with moss. Libby followed a trunk straight up with her eyes until her neck hurt. Oh, God, the sky was so _blue_!

Libby looked at the ground again, at the lush vegetation that surrounded her. Already her trained botanist's eye was at work, identifying genera and species based on books and what was grown on the Ark. Some of it would be useful.

Jasper and Monty crashed into her, cheering loudly. Jasper took one leg, Monty the other, and they hoisted Libby onto their shoulders.

"We're back, bitches!" the boys yelled, echoing Octavia's memorable salutation.

Libby shrieked, and grabbed at the boys' hair. "Put me down!"

They obliged, laughing.

"I imagine heights are terrifying for you, since you're so low to the ground all the time," Jasper said, ruffling Libby's hair.

She whacked his arm playfully.

"Where do you think the others are?" Monty scanned the crowd, which had become thin as people ran whooping into the woods. He was talking about their small circle of friends.

Jasper shrugged. "We'll find them."

"I think we should go back in the ship," Libby said.

"What, why? We've finally gotten out of a space station—why would we want to go back in?" Jasper asked.

"To scrounge whatever's useful from the ship," Libby said. "We literally have nothing, guys. No weapons, no food, no extra clothing, no bedding. We have to gut that ship if we're going to survive."

"When did you get so smart?" Jasper wanted to know.

"She's right," Monty said. "Let's go."

They turned back toward the ship. The blond girl and a tall black boy were standing right in front of the door, examining a piece of paper.

Curious, Libby walked right up to them. "Whatcha got there?"

"A map," said the blond.

"They got a bar in this town? I'll buy you a beer," Jasper quipped.

"Do you mind?" the black boy said sharply.

"Keep your hands off of him," Libby growled, lunging for the black boy. Monty grabbed her arm, holding her back.

"Relax," the black boy said. "We're just trying to figure out where we are."

"We're on the ground," said Bellamy Blake loudly from several feet away. "Isn't that enough for you?"

"You heard my dad," said the black boy—Wells Jaha. "We need to get to Mount Weather if we're going to survive."

"I'm done taking orders from your dad," said Bellamy. "You think you're in charge here, you and the Princess?"

"Do you think we care who's in charge?" The blond stepped forward. "We're not doing this because the Chancellor said so. It's because it's the right call. We'll starve to death if we don't get those supplies. We're looking at a twenty-mile walk to Mount Weather, so if we want to be there by dark, we have to move. Now."

"I have a better idea," said Bellamy. "Why don't you two go get it for us. Let the privileged to the work for a change."

There were shouts of agreement from the small crowd that had gathered around, curious about the noise and debate.

"You're not listening," Wells said. "We all need to go."

"Look at that," said a boy mockingly. "The Chancellor of Earth."

"You think that's funny?" said Wells.

The boy lunged for Wells and shoved him. Wells stumbled, and winced as his ankle twisted in a small hollow in the ground.

"Wells, don't," said the blond.

The crowd closed in, clearly eager for a fight.

Finn jumped down from the side of the ship, which he'd evidently climbed seeking a vantage point, and landed between Wells and his assailant. "Guy's only got one leg," Finn said. "Wait until it's a fair fight."

Finn and the guy stared each other down. Octavia broke the tension by stepping forward, a flirtatious smirk on her face.

"Hey, spacewalker. Rescue me next."

There was laughter, and a few catcalls, and the knot broke up.

"Are you okay?" the blond asked Wells.

"Yeah, Clarke, I'm fine." Wells stood on the ankle and winced. "Not one hundred percent, maybe, but I'll live."

"Well, you can't come along," said Clarke. "You can't walk."

"Not really," Wells admitted.

Finn approached their small circle. "So when do we leave for Mount Weather?"

"Right now," said Clarke.

"No way the two of you can carry food for a hundred," Libby said. She beckoned to Monty and Jasper. "Make it five."

"Great," said Finn. "Can we go now?"

Octavia jogged up to them. "I'm coming, too."

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bellamy demanded, following Octavia.

"For a walk," Octavia said defiantly.

Clarke grabbed Finn's wrist. "Hey—were you trying to take this off?"

"Yeah, so?" Finn snatched his arm away. There were spots of blood on his wrist.

"So this wristband transmits your vitals to the Ark," Clarke said. "Take it off, and they'll think you're dead."

"Should we care?" Libby put in.

"I don't know," Clarke said with a hint of sarcasm. "Do you want the people you love to think you're dead? Do you want them to follow you down here? Because they won't if they think that we're dying."

"Point made," Finn said.

"Which way we headed?" Libby asked Clarke.

Clarke pointed. Monty and Jasper immediately took off, eagerly crashing through the undergrowth. Finn followed, grinning.

"Before the two of you get any ideas," said Octavia, "Finn is mine."

"Before you get any ideas," said Clarke, "I don't care."

Libby snorted.


	2. Chapter 2

Monty and Libby quizzed each other on the plants as they walked. At Clarke's suggestion, they began gathering the ones that might be useful—yarrow, echinacea, comfrey, and peppermint. The gathering slowed their progress somewhat, but Libby thought it would probably be worth it in the long run.

Clarke kept up a grueling pace, marching doggedly through the woods with her head down while the others gaped at the forest around them.

Finally Finn approached her and said, "How can you tune all this out?"

"It's easy," Clarke said. "I wonder why we haven't seen any animals. Maybe there aren't any. Maybe the radiation killed them all. Maybe we've already been exposed to enough radiation to kill us. Sure is pretty, though."

"She could really use a drink," said Jasper as Clarke walked away. He nudged Monty. "Feel like, ah, experimenting?"

"Not really," Monty said.

"Aw, c'mon!" said Jasper. "Your stills are legendary! Libby, back me up."

Libby shook her head. "I'm with Monty. Although his alcohol is excellent, I don't think we're in any position to spend our time getting drunk."

Jasper pouted, but Libby could tell he wasn't really serious about it.

Suddenly, Clarke ducked into the bushes.

Libby dropped to the ground immediately—who knew what Clarke had seen?

Finn was right next to Clarke. He turned and beckoned to the others. He was smiling, so clearly they weren't in danger.

Libby army-crawled through the ferns until she reached them. Finn pointed.

There was a deer grazing in the clearing. Libby counted the points on its antlers: four. She watched in fascination as the creature nosed through the foliage, delicately picking out what it wanted.

"No animals, huh?" Finn murmured.

Monty stepped on a twig, and the deer's head flew up. Its ears twitched, it turned its head toward the sound—and Libby bit back a gasp of horror. There was a second head growing out of the deer's face.

"Gross," said Jasper.

Octavia shuddered and looked at the ground.

The deer bounded away into the trees.

"Guess he doesn't like us," Monty said.

They continued their hike in silence. Libby thought the others were as shaken by the incident as she was. Clarke hadn't been entirely right about the animals, but clearly there was enough radiation in the forest to do some damage.

After another hour, Finn broke the silence.

"You know what I'd like to know?"

"Tell us, O Spacewalker," said Libby.

Finn ignored her jibe. "Why send us down today after ninety-seven years?"

"Who cares?" Octavia grabbed the trunk of a tree and swung herself around it. "I woke up in a cell, and now I'm spinning in a forest."

"Maybe they found something," Monty suggested. "On one of the weather satellites."

"They might have sent a probe down," Libby said.

"The Ark is dying," said Clarke without turning around.

They all halted, staring at her.

"That's why you got locked up," Finn said. "That's why they floated your old man and put you in solitary."

Clarke was getting farther ahead. Libby hurried to catch up. The others crashed through the underbrush behind her.

"My father was the engineer who discovered the flaw," Clarke said in a monotone, as if she were telling someone else's story. "He thought the people had a right to know. The Council disagreed. They were afraid it would cause a panic. We were going to go public, but Wells…" she trailed off.

"He turned your dad in," Libby said softly.

"That's why today," Clarke said. "That's why it's worth the risk. Even if we all die, they bought themselves more time."

"They're going to kill more people, aren't they?" said Finn.

"Good," said Octavia fiercely. "After what they did to me, I say: float them all." She strode ahead, and Libby followed her.

"You don't mean that," Libby said.

"Yes, I do," Octavia said.

Light streamed through the trees ahead of them, suggesting another clearing. As Libby and Octavia reached the edge of the trees, the ground fell off sharply. Water rushed by in front of them, around rocks and over submerged trees.

"A river!" Libby said.

Octavia grinned at her. "Wanna go for a swim?"

"Um, hells yes!" Libby kicked off her boots.

Octavia unzipped her jumpsuit.

Jasper applauded. Libby gave him the finger as she peeled off her dirty, sweaty shirt.

"Octavia, what the hell are you doing?" Clarke said, just as Octavia launched herself off the edge, whooping, and landed in the river.

Libby followed Octavia into the water and squealed as she hit it; it was cold, but refreshing. She submerged, letting her hair float around her. Libby opened her eyes underwater, staring into the murkiness of the river. Tiny fish swam across her field of vision, shimmering silvery in the light.

Libby stood up, water streaming from her hair. The riverbed was gritty under her feet. Libby wriggled her toes gleefully.

"Libby!"

Libby looked up at Jasper and grinned.

"No, Libby—get out of the water!"

Octavia, who was standing on the edge of the river dripping wet, reached out her hand. "Libby, c'mon!"

They both sounded urgent, so Libby floundered through the river toward Octavia.

Something grabbed her leg—bit it, rather. Something with a lot of very sharp teeth. Libby screamed in pain, and fell face-first into the river. Whatever had her in its jaws tried to drag her backwards, into deeper water.

Scrabbling at the bed of the river, Libby banged her fingers on a rock. Sharp pain jolted through her hand, but she grabbed the rock. Libby bent toward her captive leg and swiped blindly with the rock. It connected with something slick and fleshy.

Libby's head broke the surface, and she gulped air. The others were shouting on the bank, but she couldn't hear them. The creature dragged her underwater again, but Libby still had her rock. She felt down her leg until her fingers found the creature's muzzle. Libby hit it with the rock as hard as she could.

The thing let go, and Libby dropped the rock. Desperately kicking her good leg, she tried to swim away from her enemy. But she didn't know how to swim, and she didn't know where the land was.

A hand wrapped around her arm, and Libby was pulled to the surface. She gasped and coughed. Everyone was shouting.

More hands grabbed Libby's arms and shoulders, and they pulled her onto the bank. Someone clapped her on the back, and she spit up water and coughed.

"Are you okay?" It was Jasper, dripping wet and gasping on the beach beside her.

"Oh my gosh—Jazz, did you jump in after me?"

"Of course I did."

Libby threw her arms around him. "Thank you. You're the best."

"I did what anybody would've done," said Jasper.

"Not anybody," Octavia said. She was looking at Jasper admiringly.

Libby and Jasper traded glances. Libby winked, as if to say, "way to go, stud."

Jasper shook his head bashfully.

"How did you get away?" Finn asked.

"I grabbed a rock off the bottom and hit it on the head," Libby said. "It didn't like that."

Monty chuckled drily.

Clarke was at Libby's side, rummaging through her makeshift pack. "Do any of these prevent infection?"

"Comfrey," Libby said through gritted teeth. "Bell-shaped flowers. Mash it up with water and smear it on."

Clarke washed Libby's leg with river water, then followed her instructions. Finn tore strips of cloth off a piece of parachute Clarke had in her bag, which Clarke used to bind Libby's wound and stop the bleeding.

"How does that feel?" Clarke tied the last knot.

"As good as it could," Libby said. "Jasper, can you bring me my pants, please?"

Libby got dressed again, standing very gingerly on her hurt leg. Octavia held her up as Libby limped along the beach, testing her leg. Meanwhile, Clarke produced a water bottle from her pack, filled it, and passed it around.

"We should camp on this side of the river," Clarke said. "It'll be dark soon."

"Sorry we got held up," said Libby.

"It's as much my fault as it is yours," Octavia said.

"Don't apologize," said Clarke. "You're excited to be here—it's understandable. But from now on, we should be more cautious. Agreed?"

Libby nodded.

They set up a rough camp not far from the river. They didn't light a fire, but they made a lean-to out of tree branches and made a pile of leaves inside.

"We're like squirrels," said Jasper. "Hibernating for the…night."

"That was terrible," Libby said.

After some awkwardness, they found a sleeping arrangement that was more or less satisfactory. Finn slept next to the entrance, his back to the outdoors. He pulled a few branches in behind him, partially blocking the opening.

Clarke slept next to Finn, though she was on her back rather than facing toward or away from him. That was diplomatic, Libby thought, but why bother? She clearly liked him.

Libby, Octavia, and Jasper slept in the middle for warmth; all three of them were still damp from their swim. Octavia sleepily rolled into Jasper and put her head on his chest. Jasper raised his head to look at Libby.

"You okay?" he mouthed.

Libby nodded. She glanced significantly at Octavia and gave Jasper a thumbs-up. He grinned, embarrassed but pleased, and lay down.

Monty was at the far end of the shelter, buried in a pile of leaves. Only his shock of dark hair was visible.

Between the leaves and their shared body heat, they all slept warm that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Jasper let go of the rope and flew through the air.

Libby held her breath.

Arms flailing, Jasper landed on the far side of the river, stumbled, then stood and jubilantly thrust both arms in the air.

Everyone cheered.

Libby didn't see the spear until it pinned Jasper to a tree. She screamed.

Clarke seized Libby's arm and yanked her to the ground. "Get down!"

Libby struggled in Clarke's grip. "We have to go help Jasper!"

"You'll get shot, too!" Finn said. "C'mon, let's get under cover."

Bent double, they all hurried for the relative safety of the trees. Octavia had her arm around Monty, who looked as shaken as Libby felt.

"Who are they?" Finn asked, as if one of them would know.

"We are so screwed," Octavia said.

A scream silenced them. Libby's head jerked around.

"Jasper!"

She ran back towards the river, heedless of the danger. Octavia and Clarke were right behind her, calling for her to stop.

Libby staggered to a halt on the spot they'd stood only minutes before and stared across the river. Jasper was gone.

"They took him," Clarke said.

"We have to follow them!" Libby looked frantically around for a way down into the riverbed. "We have to save him!"

"Libby, no!" Clarke grabbed her elbow. "We can't!"

"Why the hell not? Jasper's been impaled. If we don't get to him soon, he'll die!"

"Not yet," Clarke said. "I promise we'll go after him, but we need reinforcements—weapons—you've been hurt—we need to plan this."

"We don't have time for planning." Libby wrenched out of Clarke's grip.

"No, Libby, she's right," Octavia said. "If we go in there now, we'll all die."

"I don't care!" Libby said passionately, but despite her fear she saw their point. They were totally unprepared for a rescue mission. "Fine," she said shortly, storming past Clarke and Octavia. "Let's go, then."

The others had to trot to keep up with Libby—until she stopped dead and said, "I have no idea where we are. Clarke?"

"This way." Clarke took the lead, and Libby walked right next to her.

"I've been thinking," said Libby, "that we could probably rip scrap metal off the dropship to make knives."

"That's a good idea," Clarke said. "We could make shields that way, too."

They discussed plans all the way back to the dropship. As they approached the camp, they heard shouting.

A rhythmic chanting rose out of the cacophony: "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Clarke broke into a run. Libby tried to follow, but such exertion proved beyond her leg. Monty stayed with Libby, but Finn and Octavia sprinted ahead.

"Wells, let him go!" Clarke shouted.

Libby limped into camp, leaning heavily on Monty, just in time to see Clarke break up a fight between Wells and a frog-eyed boy.

Octavia ran forward and hugged Bellamy.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy asked. His dark eyes swept appraisingly over the rest of the expedition, pausing briefly on Libby's bloody leg. "What the hell happened out there? Where's that kid with the goggles?"

"We never made it to Mount Weather. We were attacked," said Clarke.

"By what?" Wells asked.

"Not what—who," said Finn. "Turns out the people on the Ark weren't the last of humanity."

"They took Jasper," Libby said, and her voice cracked slightly.

"What, so Jasper's dead?" Bellamy nodded at Libby. "And you got injured in the attack?"

Libby's eyes welled. "No," she said. "I was attacked by an animal. Jasper was taken by the grounders."

"The good news is, the radiation won't kill us," said Clarke. She looked at Wells. "Where's your wristband?"

Wells jerked his head at Bellamy. "Ask him."

"How many?" asked Clarke in a dangerous voice.

"Twenty-four and counting," said the frog-eyed boy proudly.

"You idiots!" Clarke exploded. "Life support on the Ark is failing! That's why they brought us down here. They need to know we can survive on the ground, and we need their help against whoever is out there. If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them. You're killing us!"

"We're stronger than you think," said Bellamy. He spoke loudly, to the delinquents clustered around them. "Don't listen to her. She's one of the privileged; she'll have it good if they come down here. Can any of you say the same? The Council says they'll forgive your crimes. I say, you're not criminals! You're fighters! You're survivors! The Grounders should be worried about us!"

The delinquents cheered in response to Bellamy's rousing speech.

"C'mon," Clarke said to Libby and Monty. "Let's get to the dropship. I want to look at your leg again, Libby. And we should plan."

Finn, Monty, and Libby followed Clarke to the dropship, which was already being gutted by the other delinquents. There were holes in the walls, wires hung from the ceiling, and many of the seats were missing.

"Sit." Clarke gestured to one of the intact seats. "Take your pants off so I can look at it," said Clarke.

"Yes, ma'am," Libby said playfully, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"Ha, ha," Clarke said. "But your sense of humor is a good sign. I want to see if you'll need stitches."

"Makes sense." Libby unbuttoned her pants and slid them down to her ankles, so that the bite on her calf was clearly visible. Despite the comfrey dressing and makeshift bandage, it was still oozing blood.

Clarke knelt in front of Libby. "Monty, can you get me some water?"

"On it." Monty disappeared out the door.

"How does it look?" Finn peered over Clarke's shoulder.

"I won't know for sure until I wash the blood off," Clarke said, "but it doesn't look swollen or infected, so that's good." She looked up at Libby. "Probably thanks to those plants you collected."

"I'll start stocking up," Libby said. "Especially if people keep getting hurt."

"They will," said Clarke grimly.

Wells entered the dropship, carrying a pack similar to Clarke's. "I packed part of the parachute, so we can use it to carry Jasper out."

"Thanks," said Clarke without looking at him. "Give it to somebody else. You're not coming."

Monty hurried into the ship, bearing water in a makeshift bucket.

"Here," said Monty. "And I got a piece of parachute, too, to clean it with."

"Thanks." Clarke dipped the parachute into the water and gently wiped Libby's leg.

"Clarke, I can keep up. My ankle's fine," said Wells.

Now Clarke did look at him, but Libby would not have wanted to be on the receiving end of that glare. "It's not the ankle, Wells. It's you."

"Clarke, we need him," Monty said. "Nobody else has volunteered to go."

"Sorry, Monty, but you're not going either," said Clarke. She mad a new compress for Libby's leg and tied it in place.

"Like hell I'm not!" Monty said. "Jasper's my best friend!"

"Yes, but you're too valuable," Clarke said. "You grew up on Ag Station and got recruited by Engineering. What's up there is going to save us all." She tapped Monty's forehead to accentuate her point. "Figure out how to talk to the Ark, and I'll bring Jasper back."

"I guess I'm staying behind too, then," said Libby bitterly.

"Of course you are," said Clarke firmly. "You can barely walk. And you know more about plants than Monty does."

"Jasper's family," Libby said. "I want to help him."

"I'll tell you how you can help him," said Clarke. "Prep for a medical emergency. Gather supplies, make someplace comfortable for us to lay him. He took a spear through the chest."

"I know!" said Libby. "That's why I want to help!"

"I know," Clarke said, "but you're hurt, and I really think this is the best way you can help your cousin."

Libby fumed, but she saw Clarke's point. "Fine," she growled. "I'll stay."

"Thank you," said Clarke. She turned to Finn. "You ready?"

"I'm not going out there," said Finn, "and neither should any of you. It's too dangerous."

"So what, you'll let Jasper die?" Libby demanded.

"That's not going to happen," said Clarke. "Spacewalker? What a joke. You pretend to be adventurous, but really you're just a coward."

"This isn't an adventure, Clarke; it's a suicide mission," said Finn.

Octavia ran in. "You guys going after Jasper?"

"Yeah," said Clarke.

"I'm coming, too."

"Like hell you are." Bellamy Blake had followed his sister, along with two of his lackeys. "Two of our people got hurt out there. One of them is probably dead. I'm not letting that happen to you, too."

"Then come with us," said Clarke.

"What?" said several people at once.

"I hear you have a gun," Clarke said to Bellamy.

Bellamy lifted his shirt, showing that a handgun was tucked into his waistband.

"Good," said Clarke. "You're coming with me."

"And why would I do that?" said Bellamy.

"Because you want to lead these people," said Clarke. "And right now, they're thinking only one of us is scared."

"Fine," said Bellamy.

"I don't need a babysitter!" Octavia said.

"I'm not babysitting you, I'm protecting you," said Bellamy.

"We leave in five minutes," said Clarke, and stalked out.

"She's forceful," Bellamy commented.

"She's smart," said Libby, "and she's brave enough to try and rescue Jasper."

"What happened to you? You said an animal attacked you?" Bellamy asked Libby.

"Something in the river."

"It looked like a giant snake," Finn said.

"Any chance we could catch it and eat it?"

"Maybe," said Libby. "We could rig a net with a parachute, or some seatbelts. Or we could lure it into shallow water. Something that big needs to stay where it's deep."

"Good thinking," said Bellamy. "I'll get on it when I get back." He turned to his two minions. "Murphy, you'll come with me. Atom, you're in charge. Make sure nobody leaves."

"We should start building walls, to protect ourselves," Libby said. "Are there any fallen trees laying around out there?"

"A few," said Atom. "And I made an axe from some dropship parts."

Bellamy nodded. "Great. I'll leave you guys to do that, then. You stay off that leg," he said to Libby. "If that means you have to boss people around, so be it."

"Why do you care about my wellbeing? You don't even know me," Libby said.

"You're Jasper's cousin, right?"

Libby stuck out her hand. "Elizabeth Jordan."

Bellamy took the proffered hand and shook it, smiling slightly. "Bellamy Blake. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," said Libby. His hand engulfed hers, but it was warm, strong, and callused. "Answer the question."

Bellamy shrugged. "You're one of my people now. I don't want you to die if at all possible." He dropped her hand.

Bellamy and Murphy left. Finn was gone, too, but Libby didn't know where or when.

"So I'll organize people to build the wall," said Atom.

Libby nodded. "Monty—what do you need to get in touch with the Ark?"

"Well, we don't have a radio," said Monty. "Our communication satellites got fucked up in the landing. I think—and this is only a theory—that our best bet is these wrist bands."

"There's a whole stack of 'em by the fire," said Atom.

Monty darted outside.

"Atom, make sure we still have space inside the camp," Libby said. "It might not hurt to build some shelters, too. Winter isn't that far away."

"Yes, ma'am," Atom said.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's fine. They're good ideas. Just don't talk to Bellamy like that." Atom grinned. "Do you want me to help you get outside?"

"Yes please," said Libby.

"Do you want to…put your pants back on first?"

"Oh." Libby had forgotten that she was half-naked. "Probably a good call." She pulled up her pants. "Help me up?"

Atom put an arm around Libby's waist and pulled her upright. Together they made their way outside, and Atom settled Libby on a stump not far from the fire.

"Thanks," said Libby. "Now, when Jasper comes back he's going to need medical attention. Can I have some people to boss around in preparation for that?"

"Sure thing." Atom looked around. "Fox, Sterling, come here."

A thin, dark-haired girl and a boy with brown hair approached.

"This is Libby," Atom said. "She's in charge of medical supplies for when Bellamy gets back. You do whatever she tells you to. Got it?"

Atom strode away, barking out orders to the knots of teenagers hanging around the camp. "All right, we're going to build a wall! Start collecting fallen trees. You and you, find something to dig holes with."

"Which of you is Fox?" Libby asked.

"That's me," said the girl.

"Can you help me up? We need to gather plants to treat Jasper, and whoever else gets hurt, and I can't do that sitting here."

"Sure." Fox put her arm around Libby's waist and helped her up.

"Sterling—can you go into the dropship and put together some kind of bed or platform to put the wounded on? I'd rather not leave them laying on the floor," Libby said.

"I think I can do that," said Sterling.

"Well, you'd better," Libby said, adopting a stern tone like Clarke or Bellamy used. "If you need help, get it. Also, Monty is in there trying to rig up a communications system. See if he needs anything."

She expected an argument, or a sassy retort, but Sterling nodded and hurried away.


	4. Chapter 4

After several hours, Libby and Fox had gathered a respectable amount of echinacea, as well as yarrow and more comfrey. They hadn't strayed far from camp, to be on the safe side—not that Libby could get far on her leg. Fox found a forked branch for Libby to use as a crutch, but she was still slow.

Sterling, meanwhile, put together what he called a "sickbed": a low platform, comprised largely of seats from the ship, overlaid by a sheet of metal. He'd also gathered up some parachute to use as blankets, and torn part of it into strips for bandaging.

Libby was organizing the herbs by tying them together in bunches with wire and hanging them near the sickbed when Clarke came back. Wells and Finn were carrying Jasper between them. He was shirtless, pale, and unconscious.

"Put him there," Libby said. "Fox—boil some water."

Fox hurried away, and Libby limped to the sickbed.

"I figured you'd run off after them," Libby said to Finn.

"Good thing I did," said Finn.

"Where are Bellamy and Murphy?" Libby asked.

"We killed a giant cat. Bellamy decided it was food," Wells said.

"He means that he killed it," said Finn.

"Wow." Libby stared at Wells. "Good job, man."

"The only reason I could was because I stole Bellamy's gun," Wells said modestly.

"That was probably a good call," Libby said.

Clarke, meanwhile, was feeling Jasper's forehead. "He doesn't seem feverish."

"What's that on his chest?" Libby peered at the orange paste smeared over Jasper's wound.

"Some kind of poultice the Grounders put on him," said Clarke.

"What, so they saved his life?"

"Yes," said Clarke shortly, avoiding Libby's gaze.

Libby looked to Finn.

"They had him strung up in a tree," Finn said. "We think he was bait for the cat."

Libby gasped. "What?"

"It's okay. We got to him before it was too late," Finn said reassuringly.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Libby scowled.

"Yes."

"Well, it doesn't! Jasper could have died!"

"But he didn't," said Wells.

Libby looked at Jasper, laying prone on the floor. "He might still die."

"Not if Clarke has anything to say about it," Finn said bracingly.

"Should we take the poultice off?" Clarke asked Libby.

"I don't know," Libby said. "On the one hand, it probably saved his life. On the other hand, we have no idea what it is."

"We'll clean it out of there," Clarke decided. "As soon as I have hot water and cloth for bandages—"

"We've already got bandages," Libby said. "Sterling built us a hospital."

"Hardly," said Clarke. "None of this is sterile, and we don't have any anesthetics or—"

"Normal people would say 'thank you,' Clarke," Libby said. "Fox is boiling water, and we've got all the medicines I could find nearby—including opium poppy, which is the closest we'll get to an anesthetic."

"You found opium?"

"In plant form, yes. The opium is in the latex—the sappy stuff—but it needs to dry first."

"How soon can you have some ready?"

"There's some drying right there." Libby nodded toward the wall, where Sterling had set up a flat stone to use as a table. "It's probably okay to use."

Clarke stared at Libby in amazement. "You're really prepared."

"You said the best way for me to help Jasper was to get medical supplies together," Libby said. "So that's what I did."

"But you can hardly walk," Clarke said.

"No, I can't. But Bellamy gave Atom the authority to tell people to help me. So Fox and Sterling became my bitches."

"I object strongly to that terminology," Sterling said.

Fox came back into the dropship, carefully carrying a plastic container of hot water. "This used to hold gas for the dropship," she said. "I already boiled water in it once, to clean it. I hope that's okay."

"Best we can do down here," said Clarke. "Thank you."

"Fox, Sterling, why don't you guys get out of here," Libby said. "This is the gross part. Go get some of that food Bellamy's bragging about."

"You sure you don't need anything else?" Sterling asked.

Libby looked to Clarke, who shook her head. "Nah, I think we're good for now," Libby said. "Thanks, guys."

"Why don't you give him the opium," Clarke said. "You probably have a better idea of the dosage than I do."

Libby scraped the whitish stuff off the piece of metal where it had been drying. Together it was maybe about a teaspoon. She swirled it around in her palm. "How should we give it to him, do you think?"

Clarke looked helpless. "I have no idea."

"Let's see if he'll swallow it." Libby pried Jasper's mouth open.

"He can't swallow if he's unconscious," Clarke said.

"So let's wake him up," Libby said. She put her fingers on Jasper's wound and pressed.

Her cousin's eyes flew open and he yelled. "Ow! Libby, what the hell?"

"I need you to swallow this," Libby said. "It'll help with the pain."

Jasper groaned. "Sounds dandy." He opened his mouth.

Libby dropped the opium flakes onto Jasper's tongue, and he swallowed. Clarke and Libby waited patiently for several minutes, until Jasper's eyelids drooped.

"Okay, now take the poultice off," Libby said.

Using hot water and her fingers, Clarke pried the orange mass away from Jasper's chest. The wound underneath was cauterized, but pink and angry.

"It looks okay, but that may change," said Clarke. "Has there been any progress on using the wristbands to contact the Ark? My mother would know what to do."

"I haven't talked to Monty in an hour or so, but last I heard—no," Libby said.

"Where is he?"

"Upstairs."

"I'm going to go talk to him." Clarke stood and headed for the ladder.

Libby settled herself more comfortably by Jasper's bed, stretching her wounded leg out to one side.

"You are not allowed to die, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

Libby jumped, but it was only Bellamy. "Shit, you startled me."

"Sorry." Bellamy approached the bed. "How's he doing?"

"Okay. For now."

"You're worried about him." It wasn't a question.

"'Course I'm worried about him. He's all the family I have. I've lived with him and his folks since I was eight."

Bellamy didn't ask what had happened to Libby's parents, for which she was grateful. "I brought you something," he said.

A delicious, unfamiliar aroma filled Libby's nostrils. She stared at the steaming pinkish thing in Bellamy's hand. "What the hell is that?"

Bellamy chuckled. "It's some of the meat from that cat."

Libby gingerly took the meat from Bellamy's hands, and he sat cross-legged beside her. Libby eyed the meat, then cautiously bit into it. Hot, savory juices leaked into her mouth. She groaned with delight.

"This is hands-down the best thing I've ever eaten," she said.

"I'm glad," said Bellamy.

"Did you eat some?"

"Only a little," Bellamy said. "Where's your wristband?"

"I let Monty take it to tinker with," Libby said. "If we can get in touch with the Ark, they'll know we're not dead."

Bellamy frowned. "I thought we said 'screw the Ark.'"

"You said screw the Ark," Libby said. "We need to talk to them, Bellamy. We need their resources. There are trained doctors and engineers up there, not some smart-ass kids with leaves and a homemade knife."

Bellamy opened his mouth to protest, but Libby cut him off.

"You're probably right about the privileged taking over when they get down here, but Dr. Griffin might know how to save Jasper's life. To me, that was worth trying to get in touch with the Ark. Tell me you wouldn't do the same for Octavia."

"I would," Bellamy said reluctantly. "Especially if she'd been impaled on a spear."

"Exactly. So let Monty do his thing." Libby dragged herself toward the wall and started rummaging through the plants she and Fox had gathered.

"What are you doing?"

"If we can't get in touch with the Ark, we'll have to make do with what we have. I'm trying to decide which of these has the best chance of stopping Jasper's infection."

Bellamy knelt behind her and looked over her shoulder. "Wow. You know what all these plants are?"

"Yep." Libby pulled out a bundle of echinacea. "This stuff for sure. It boosts the immune system. If Jasper's infected like Clarke says, he needs all the help he can get." They had found a few plants of St. John's wort, which was a good antiseptic. "And this stuff will help clean the wound if we put it in boiled water. It's antiseptic."

Bellamy looked impressed. "How did you learn all this?"

"I worked in the greenhouse," Libby said. "We grow all the food and pharmaceuticals. I remember you."

"What?"

"You used to come and do searches, to make sure we weren't growing cannabis or anything," Libby said. "I recognized you when we got down here. I didn't know Octavia was your sister."

"You know Octavia?"

"Sure. Neither of us was in solitary. We saw each other during meals and free time. She's great. You must be proud of her."

Libby pulled out a single stem of opium poppy and broke off the seed head.

"What's that?"

"Poppy." Libby cracked the seed head open, and the milky latex oozed out. "If I dry this white stuff, it'll act as an anesthetic and painkiller." She tapped the seed head against the rock, dislodging the latex. "It takes a few hours. This should be ready next time he needs a dose."

"Do you know any useful plants that we could eat?"

"Sure. I haven't looked, but I'm sure there's wild asparagus around here. If there's a place where the river flows slower, it'll have cattails or plantain. And of course there's clover and dandelions, which will grow in any open space."

"Once your leg is healed, I want you to take a group out and find some of those plants," Bellamy said. "We can't rely entirely on hunting."

"As delicious as it is," Libby said, taking another bite of her cat meat. "Thought it'll taste better if I can find some herbs."

Clarke came back down the ladder. "Oh, Bellamy. Hi."

"I was just checking on Jasper." Bellamy stood.

"He brought food." Libby held the meat out to Clarke. "It's fucking delicious."

Clarke hesitantly took the meat and tore a chunk out of it with her teeth. Her eyes widened in delighted surprise.

Libby had an idea. "Fox gave us one of the gas tanks to hold water," she said to Bellamy. "Can you and your cronies get together some other containers? I wouldn't get rid of the gas—it might come in handy later—but some of them are probably empty, right?"

"We can figure something out." Bellamy nodded and strode away.

Clarke swallowed her mouthful. "Damn if that isn't delicious."

"It'll taste better when I've found mustard," Libby said.

"Monty hasn't made any progress," Clarke said. "I'm going to give him the night. In the meantime, let's clean Jasper's wound."


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke and Libby took turns sitting with Jasper and treating him. Libby was awakened one morning—she didn't know how long it had been—by Jasper's loud groaning.

"Shut him up!" someone yelled from outside. "Just die already!"

"Don't worry," said Clarke. "Wells and Finn are standing guard."

Libby sat up and cracked her neck. "Have you looked at the wound?"

Clarke pulled the blanket away from Jasper's chest; the flesh around the wound was slightly greenish.

Clarke paled. "It's infected."

"Shit," said Libby. "What do we do?"

"My mom would know. I'll talk to Monty." Clarke hurried up the ladder.

Libby felt Jasper's forehead; it was warm. She dipped a rag in cool water and bathed his face and neck.

"Don't die," she whispered.

Clarke came back down the ladder, frowning. "Nothing."

"So we have to figure this out ourselves," Libby said. "We can't afford to wait."

"I know." Clarke knelt next to Libby. "I have an idea, but I don't think you'll like it."

"If it'll save Jasper's life, it's a great idea," said Libby.

Clarke sterilized a homemade knife, and Libby prepared a poultice. They gave Jasper all the opium they had. Clarke straddled Jasper's torso, and Libby sat by his head and leaned on his good shoulder.

"Ready?" Clarke asked.

"No. Do it," Libby said.

Clarke took a deep breath, and stuck the hot knife into Jasper's chest.

Jasper yelled.

Monty came tumbling down the ladder. "What the hell?"

"I'm cutting away the infected flesh," Clarke said.

Libby handed her a cloth soaked in the St. John's wort, and Clarke swabbed the fresh wounds. "Help me hold him, Monty. Get his legs."

Monty obeyed. "I don't like this."

"Me neither," said Libby, "but it's the only chance he has."

Octavia ran into the dropship. "You're killing him!"

"She's trying to save his life," Libby snapped.

Predictably, Bellamy followed Octavia. "It can't be done," he said.

"I'm sorry if Jasper is an inconvenience to you," Libby said sarcastically.

"This isn't the Ark," said Clarke through gritted teeth. "Down here, every life matters."

"Look at him," Bellamy said. "He's a lost cause."

Libby looked at Jasper's pale, sweaty face. "Maybe Bellamy's right, Clarke," she said.

Clarke shook her head. "I've spent my whole life watching my mother heal people. If I say there's hope, there's hope."

"This isn't about hope; it's about guts," said Bellamy. "You don't have the guts to make the hard choices. He's been like this for three days. If he's not better by tomorrow, I'll kill him myself."

"You'll have to go through me," said Libby, glaring at Bellamy.

Bellamy smirked. "I think I can take you."

"It won't just be her," said Monty fiercely.

"No offense, but neither of you is very intimidating," said Bellamy.

"Am I?" Octavia stood and stepped between Bellamy and Jasper's prone form.

Bellamy snorted. "No."

"Fuck you," Octavia said.

"Go away, Bellamy," Clarke said. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Fine," said Bellamy. "Octavia, let's go."

Octavia crossed her arms. "I'm staying here."

As soon as Bellamy was outside, Finn and Wells hurried in.

"We heard everything," said Wells.

"Power-hungry, self-serving jackass," Monty grumbled. "He doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"Bellamy is all of that," said Finn. "But he's also right. No way Jasper survives this."

"He will," said Libby fiercely.

"We're doing everything we can," Clarke said. "We're lucky to have Libby; otherwise, I'd be doing this with hot water and a knife." She bent intently over her work. For a moment, all was silent in the dropship.

"You're mad," Finn said.

"I'm not mad," Clarke said. "If you think Jasper's a lost cause, fine. But you're wrong."

"I hope I am," Finn said.

"Libby, what do we have that's antibiotic?" Clarke asked.

"Echinacea and St. John's wort," Libby said. "And we're almost out of both."

"Shit," Clarke said flatly.

"I can go get more," Libby said.

"Can't you send someone?"

"I'd rather not," said Libby. "Fox went with me, but I can't be sure she knows exactly what to look for."

Clarke wavered. "Don't go alone," she said.

"Yes ma'am." Libby stood, a bit stiffly, and went outside.

Bellamy was standing by the main fire, surrounded by a small circle of followers. All of them carried crude, handmade spears and knives.

"We'll go southeast today," Bellamy was saying. "If we bring back food, it'll cheer everyone up. Ready?"

Libby boldly stepped up next to Bellamy. "Yeah. Let's go."

"Whoa." Bellamy put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "What makes you think you're going?"

"I need more plants to treat Jasper," Libby said. "And you said it's not safe to go out there alone. So—I won't be alone. I'll be with you."

"She's unarmed," said Murphy.

"Shut up, Murphy," Atom said. He handed Libby a knife. "Use this."

"Thank you." Libby stuck the knife in her pocket.

Bellamy still seemed reluctant. "We can't waste time and energy watching your back."

"I'll watch my own back," Libby said.

"Let's go kill something," said Murphy.

"Not you," Bellamy said. "I need you to keep an eye on things here."

"Fine," said Murphy. "But if goggle boy gives us away—"

"You'll do nothing." Libby spoke in a low-pitched, authoritative voice. She stared Murphy down.

"I said Jasper had until tomorrow," Bellamy said. "You'll leave him alone, Murphy, or you'll answer to me. Got it?"

Murphy angrily whirled away.

Bellamy beckoned to his hunting party, and they trotted for the gate. Libby brought up the rear.

They trekked through the forest in silence. After about twenty minutes of walking, Libby split away from the group. A patch of echinacea was nearby.

"If you run into trouble, yell," Bellamy said as she jogged away.

Libby waved in reply.

The valuable medicinal plant grew in a small clearing. Libby knelt among the fragrant stems and went to work. It was primarily the leaves she was interested in. She stuffed what she gathered through a hole in her jacket pocket, so that it filled the lining.

A loud squealing pierced Libby's ears. Her head jerked up. A boar burst into the clearing. Bellamy's hunting party sprinted behind it, wielding their spears and knives. The boar was bleeding in several places, and someone's knife was still lodged in its shoulder.

Libby stood slowly, clutching Atom's knife. The boar hadn't seen her; it crashed blindly ahead, trampling the plants in its path.

"Libby! Move!" Atom yelled.

Libby stubbornly stood her ground. The boar was running directly at her. When it was only a yard or so away, Libby bellowed at the top of her lungs.

Startled, the boar staggered to a halt and swerved to go around Libby. When it was right next to her, moving slowly because of the sudden turn, Libby lunged and drove Atom's knife deep into the boar's side.

The boar grunted in pain. It kept moving, but slowly. The hunters closed in.

"Get out of the way!"

Libby dove aside. Several people threw knives and spears. The boar squealed, and collapsed to the ground.

Atom approached it, another knife in his hand, and slit the boar's throat. "It's dead," he said proudly.

The hunting party cheered. The sound was raucous and barbaric, but intoxicating.

Bellamy came into the clearing last, trailed by a preteen girl. "You killed it. Well done."

"If Libby hadn't stood in its way, we might not have caught it," Atom said gallantly.

Bellamy stared at Libby. "You stood in front of a charging boar?"

"It wasn't charging, it was fleeing," Libby said. "I just slowed it down a little."

"Well, good work, all of you," Bellamy said.

The hunters gathered around the boar, congratulating each other. They tied the boar to a sturdy staff using wires, and two guys hoisted it onto their shoulders.

Bellamy approached Libby. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Yep." Libby patted her pockets. "If this doesn't save Jasper's life, I'll kill him myself."

"You'd do that?"

Libby shrugged. "If somebody's going to mercy-kill him, it should be me."

"Fair enough," Bellamy said.

The preteen girl had followed Bellamy across the field, sticking to his side like a burr. She had wide, innocent gray eyes.

"Who are you?" said Libby bluntly.

"Charlotte," the girl said.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Libby. Are you one of Bellamy's hunters now?"

Charlotte glanced up at Bellamy, who nodded affirmation.

"Yes," said Charlotte, and smiled shyly.

"Do you think you'd want to help me with something, too?"

"Sure."

"Does your jacket have pockets?"

Charlotte looked puzzled. "Yes."

"Would you mind carrying some things for me?"

"I guess not," Charlotte said.

"I thought you got what you needed for Jasper," said Bellamy.

"I did," said Libby. "But you told me to look for food as well as medicine."

"Yes."

Libby gestured to the ferns. "There's the rest of your dinner, kids. Get digging."

Under Libby's instruction, the hunters dug up fern rhizomes and filled their pockets.

"I've read about knights eating roots in the forest," Bellamy said. "I always thought it meant tree roots."

Libby snorted. "Would you want to eat a tree root?"

"No, but isn't that kind of the point?"

"To help with their noble character building?"

"Exactly."

Libby chuckled, and Bellamy smiled at her.

Finally, Libby was satisfied with their efforts. Miller and Jones hoisted the boar onto their shoulders, and they set out for camp. Charlotte and Bellamy led the way; Atom and Libby brought up the rear.

"That was really brave, what you did," said Atom. "With the boar."

"Poor thing was scared for its life," Libby said.

"What, you're going vegetarian now?"

"Hell no. Meat is too delicious, and we don't have enough food for me to be picky."

Atom laughed. At the front of the group, Bellamy glanced back over his shoulder.

Libby jerked her head in the direction of Bellamy and Charlotte. "What do you make of that? Bellamy looking after that girl?"

Atom shrugged. "Big brother instinct?"

"Makes sense," said Libby musingly.

"I mean, that's why you're so protective of Jasper, right? He's family."

"Yeah. He's all I have down here."

"Must be nice. To have somebody who'd do anything for you," said Atom.

Libby thought of Jasper pulling her out of the river. "Yeah. It is."

From somewhere behind them, a horn sounded through the forest.

Something scurried over Libby's foot: a mouse. In front of her, a thick, yellowish fog rolled through the trees.

"Run!" Bellamy yelled.

The hunting party scattered. Libby sprinted for a clump of rocks. Bellamy and Charlotte were just ahead of her.

Libby tripped on a root, and fell flat on her face. Atom helped her up.

"Over here!" Bellamy shouted.

Libby stumbled in the direction of his voice. Atom was right behind her. Libby's lungs were burning. She coughed.

A hand emerged from the fog and clamped around Libby's arm. Bellamy pulled her into the shelter of a cave.

Libby coughed violently.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked.

"I will be." Libby gasped for air. "Where's Atom?"

"Still outside." Bellamy turned back toward the entrance. "I'll go get him."

"No, don't!" Libby coughed. "The fog—it burns." She held out her hands, which were red and raw.

From outside the cave, Atom screamed.

Bellamy winced. "I can't leave him out there."

"If you go out there, you'll die," said Libby.

They all sat in silence and listened to Atom scream. After what seemed like hours, the screaming stopped, and all was silent.

"We need to bandage your hands," said Bellamy.

"How does my face look?"

"No worse than usual."

"Jackass." Libby pretended to be pissed off.

Charlotte giggled.

"That stuff you gathered out there—will it help?"

"Yes." Libby groped in her pocket and pulled out a handful of leaves. "The juice should soothe the burns, at least until we can get home and do something better." She started crushing the leaves between her palms.

"Let me do that." Bellamy's large hands closed over Libby's and took the leaves.

"Smear it wherever you see a burn."

"Look at me," Bellamy said. "The light is better this way."

Libby turned her face toward him, and he gently dabbed leaf pulp over her cheeks, nose and forehead. Bellamy smeared the pulp down her neck, stopping politely at her collarbone, and over her wrists, palms, and the backs of her hands.

"Does that feel better?"

Libby nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. We should probably stay here overnight," Bellamy said.

"Good call. Charlotte, are you hungry?"

"Not very," Charlotte said bravely.

"Well, there's food in your pockets. Eat it."

The three of them shared the fern rhizomes from Charlotte's pocket. They were crunchy and earthy, but filling.

"They'll taste better cooked; I promise," Libby said when Charlotte made a face.

Once they'd eaten, there wasn't much to do but sleep. Libby pretended to be cold and curled up next to Charlotte. Bellamy stretched out a respectful distance away.

For a while, they slept.


	6. Chapter 6 (and brief AN)

Charlotte punched Libby in the face.

"Ow!" Libby sat bolt upright. The cave was pitch dark.

Charlotte lay beside Libby, whimpering and thrashing. Libby shook her.

"Charlotte, wake up!"

There were sounds of movement, and Bellamy's warm bulk was at Libby's side. "Charlotte, wake up. It's okay."

The girl gasped, and sat up. She was sobbing. "I'm sorry."

"Hush, it's all right." Libby's hand found Charlotte's hair and stroked it soothingly.

"Does it happen often?" Bellamy asked.

Charlotte sighed heavily.

That's a yes, Libby thought.

"What are you scared of? You know what—it doesn't matter," said Bellamy. "The only thing that matters is what you do about it."

"What can I do about it when I'm asleep?" Charlotte said.

"Fears are fears," said Bellamy. "Slay your demons when you're awake, and they can't get you when you sleep."

"Yeah, but…how?"

"Yeah, Bellamy—how?" Libby echoed.

Bellamy elbowed her. "You can't afford to be weak," he said to Charlotte. "Weakness is death. Fear is death. Where's that knife I gave you?"

Libby's eyes were adjusting to the dark. She saw Charlotte hand Bellamy a knife.

"When you feel afraid," said Bellamy, "you hold tight to this knife and say, 'screw you. I'm not afraid.'"

He handed Charlotte the knife. The girl gripped it tightly in both hands.

"Screw you. I'm not afraid," said Charlotte.

"With conviction!" Libby drew Atom's knife—hers now. "Screw you! I am not afraid!"

"Screw you!" said Charlotte. "I'm not afraid!"

"That's it." Bellamy patted Charlotte's shoulder. "Slay your demons, Charlotte. Then you'll be able to sleep."

Charlotte lay back down. Libby sat beside her, stroking her hair and humming, until the girl fell asleep. Bellamy stayed where he was.

"You're very inspiring," Libby whispered. She was only half-joking.

"I used to say that to my sister before I put her under the floor."

"I think it worked," said Libby. "Octavia's one of the bravest people I know."

"That's a lot, coming from you."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on. Jasper's, what, your best friend? And you're taking care of him as coolly as if he were a stranger."

"I don't know about that," Libby said.

"Well, you're very convincing. Great bedside manner."

Libby scoffed.

"And not many people would stand in front of a charging boar."

"Why is everyone making a big deal about that? I didn't stand in front of it. I let it come to me, and then I scared the shit out of it."

"Well, it worked. And nobody else thought of it."

"That's cause nobody else was stupid enough to stand in front of a charging boar."

Bellamy chuckled. "I thought you said—"

"Shut up. I know what I said. It was just luck, okay? I would not have done that voluntarily."

They sat in silence for a while. An owl hooted outside.

"I guess that means the fog's gone," Libby said. "The birds are back."

"Guess so," said Bellamy. "We'll leave at first light. I hope everyone else made it."

"I'm sure they're fine."

"Atom isn't."

"Yeah, well, that's my fault," Libby said. "I tripped and fell. If he hadn't stopped to help me up, he'd be in here with you."

"Yeah, and you'd be outside."

"So?" said Libby bitterly.

"So, we need you. You got food for three people and medicine for a fourth in what, twenty minutes? From some weeds?"

"It's not rocket science, Bellamy."

"Teach everybody in the camp if it makes you feel better."

"I will," said Libby. "You're not losing anybody else on account of me."

"I don't think that's what happened here, but okay. Why don't you get some sleep."

Libby was puzzled by Bellamy's sudden acquiescence. Then again, Atom's death was her burden to bear, not his.

Libby stretched out next to Charlotte. The girl sighed in her sleep and snuggled close. Libby draped one arm over her.

Bellamy moved around to Charlotte's other side and lay down.

Libby was almost asleep when she felt a warm pressure on her arm. Bellamy, too, had wrapped an arm around Charlotte. His hand rested casually on Libby's arm. It felt oddly intimate. Libby shifted, unsure of Bellamy's intentions or whether she should be uncomfortable.

Bellamy's fingers cupped her elbow and squeezed gently.

"Shh," he said softly.

Libby slept.

They slept for a few hours, until daylight penetrated their stony haven. When Libby woke up, Bellamy was already on his feet and peering outside.

"All clear," he said when Libby sat up. "Morning, sunshine."

"Shut up." Libby staggered to her feet and brushed dirt off herself.

Charlotte sat up and stretched. "Is there anybody out there?"

"Let's find out."

They went outside. The air was crisp.

"Jones! Miller!" Bellamy shouted.

"Over here!" came the faint reply.

Bellamy and Libby went toward Jones's voice, but they stopped dead when Charlotte screamed. Libby sprinted to the girl's side, and was tempted to scream herself.

Atom was sprawled on the ground, covered in burns and blisters. Whatever was in that fog had burned him alive.

Bile rose in Libby's throat.

"Son of a bitch." Bellamy dropped to his knees. "Atom."

The corpse's eyes cracked open. Amazingly, Atom was still alive.

"Kill me," said Atom. His voice was raspy. "Kill…me." He gulped air.

The rest of the hunting party came running through the trees. Amazingly, Miller and Jones still had the boar.

"Holy shit," said Miller.

"You guys get out of here," said Bellamy sharply. "Charlotte—go with Harper."

Charlotte drew her knife and handed it to Bellamy. "Don't be afraid," she said.

The hunting party left, their faces wan and haunted.

Libby sank to the ground beside Bellamy.

"You, too," Bellamy said.

"Like hell. This is my fault." Libby's hands hovered over Atom's body, as if she could heal him by sheer willpower. "Atom, I'm so sorry."

"Kill…me," Atom said hoarsely. "Please."

The knife in Bellamy's hand was shaking. Libby put her hand over his to still it.

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to help you, Atom, all right?"

She gently took the knife from Bellamy. He didn't resist.

Libby ran her hands through Atom's hair. Atom stared up at her, his eyes unfocused, heaving air through chapped lips.

Libby recalled an old song she'd heard in the Ark's library files. She began to sing, softly: "'I've seen fire, and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.'" Her voice cracked. "'But I always thought I'd see you…again.'"

She slid the knife into Atom's neck.

"May we meet again," said Libby.

"May we meet again," Bellamy said. He awkwardly patted Libby on the shoulder.

Libby wiped away the tears sliding down her cheeks. She wiped Bellamy's knife on Atom's jacket and handed it back to him.

"We should take him back to camp," Bellamy said. "Bury him."

Libby nodded.

They walked back to camp in silence. Libby carried Bellamy's axe, and Bellamy carried Atom's body. They'd taken Atom's jacket off and put it over his face, so nobody had to see it.

Sterling opened the gate for them. He looked tired and sad.

"Miller told me," he said.

"I need to get to Jasper quickly," Libby said. "Sterling, will you take the—Atom to Wells and bury—him."

"Get his clothes," said Bellamy, gently setting the body down. "We'll redistribute them. Libby, what do you need?"

"Hot water." Libby set out for the ship at a brisk pace, Bellamy in her wake.

Murphy and Finn were standing in front of the dropship.

"Lose anybody here?" Bellamy asked.

Murphy shook his head.

"Jasper?"

"Still breathing," said Murphy. "I tried to kill him, but your psycho little sister—"

Bellamy lunged at Murphy and pinned him against the wall. "My what?"

Murphy swallowed. "Your little sister."

"Yeah, that's right," said Bellamy. "My little sister. Got anything else you want to say about her?"

Murphy didn't look Bellamy in the eye. "Nothing. Sorry."

"Jones, get Murphy out of here," Bellamy said.

Libby brushed past Finn. "Clarke? I've got it."

"Oh, thank God!"

Clarke, Monty, and Octavia were seated in a ring around Jasper.

"I need hot water," Libby said.

"I'm on it." Octavia sprang to her feet and hurried away.

"What happened out there?" Clarke asked.

Libby shook her head. "Some weird burning fog rolled in. Atom…got caught in it. He's—Wells is burying him."

"Oh." Clarke patted Libby's arm. "I'm sorry."

Libby waved her away. "I barely knew him. Are Jasper's wounds clean?"

"As clean as I can get them," Clarke said. "Nothing looks infected."

"Good." Libby pulled all the echinacea out of her pockets. "Let's put some of this on his chest, and make him drink the rest of it. It'll help his body fight off infections."

When Octavia returned with the water, Clarke and Libby quickly dosed Jasper with echinacea and opium. As soon as he'd drank the medicine, Jasper fell asleep again.

Libby sat back with a sigh. "Now all we can do is wait."

Miller poked his head in. "Hey—uh, Libby?"

"Yeah?"

"We've got the boar roasting, but we were wondering how to cook these root things."

"Rhizomes," Libby said automatically. "Boil them."

"In what?"

"I don't know, Miller. Figure it out."

Miller left.

"Rhizomes?" Clarke frowned in confusion.

"Underground stems," Libby said shortly. "From ferns. They're edible. Cook kind of like potatoes. It's better than nothing."

"Smart," Clarke said. "And the boar?"

"Atom killed it."

Clarke, Libby, Octavia, and Monty sat by Jasper's bed for the rest of the day. The smell of cooking food drifted into the dropship. Libby's stomach growled, but she stayed put.

Around sunset, Finn came in. He was carrying what looked like a slab of bark, with meat and "potatoes" piled high.

"I thought you guys might be hungry," he said.

"Thanks, Finn," said Clarke.

Finn sat cross-legged across from Libby. "How's he doing?"

"Still breathing," said Libby. Her eyes hadn't left Jasper's face in hours.

"I got something else, too." Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out a darkly colored bottle. "Found this in an old car. I think it's whiskey."

They passed the bottle around.

"This is stronger than mine," said Monty, surprised.

"That's not hard." Libby took a swig. The liquor burned a trail down her throat and settled in her stomach, warm and pleasant. "It's nice."

"It's disgusting," said Octavia. "Love it."

"Can I get a hit of that?" Jasper's voice was husky and weak.

"Jasper!" Libby put her hand to his forehead. "No fever!"

"Let's start with the soft stuff," Monty said.

"Welcome back, buddy," said Finn.

"Did I get speared, or was that a dream?" Jasper asked.

"You'll have a huge scar to prove it," Clarke said.

"Thank you for not dying," said Libby. "I don't think I could've handled that today."

"I'll try not to die tomorrow, too, if that's cool," Jasper said.

Libby's eyes welled up. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Me, too," said Jasper. "I am also glad I'm okay."

Libby laughed jubilantly.

 **A/N Hi! Sorry for the late update; I was at a music festival this weekend. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and followed so far. Keep 'em coming. I love feedback. I live for it. I crave validation. …'K bye. – ST** **i! Hi**


	7. Chapter 7

After much coaxing, Libby and Octavia got Jasper to leave the camp.

They'd been on the ground for ten days, and the camp looked entirely different than it had before Wells was murdered. The Grounders were a tangible, terrible threat; Bellamy had capitalized on their fear to build a wall, which now encircled most of the camp.

Jasper was leaning heavily on Octavia, who didn't seem to mind. Libby walked ahead of them, pretending to be deaf to their quiet conversation.

Libby circled around a clump of ferns—but someone behind the ferns put their hand over her mouth and tried to pull her away.

Jasper yelled. "Libby!"

Libby elbowed her assailant in the gut as hard as she could. His grip loosened, and she broke free.

It was John Mbege, one of Murphy's buddies. Libby shoved him.

"Was that supposed to be funny, asswipe?"

"Get out of here, jerk!" Octavia said.

John ran away, sniggering.

Jasper embraced Libby fiercely. "God, that scared me!"

"Hey, it's okay." Libby patted Jasper on the back.

"We should go back," Jasper said. "That's enough for today."

"Fine," Libby said. She couldn't blame him for getting freaked out.

As they started back to camp, Jasper tripped and fell.

Libby went to help him up, but the sight of three severed fingers brought her up short.

"They have to be Wells's…right?" Jasper said.

Octavia bent to look. "Must be. He was missing three fingers. And look: a knife."

"We should take it to Bellamy," said Octavia.

"Clarke should know," Jasper said. "Wells was her best friend."

"I'll get Clarke and meet you in Bellamy's tent," Libby said.

She found Clarke inside the dropship. Clarke was rubbing her naked wrist.

"You took your wristband off," Libby said.

"Monty needed a live one," said Clarke, as if this explained everything, as if she hadn't been the wristbands' most vehement defender. "What's up?"

"Come with me."

Clarke looked alarmed, but mutely followed Libby to Bellamy's tent. The incriminating knife sat on a table in the center of the tent.

"What the hell is this?" Clarke asked.

"We found it on the ground, next to Wells's missing fingers," Libby said.

Clarke picked the knife up and examined it. "This was made of metal from the dropship," she said. "Who else knows about this?"

"Nobody," said Octavia. "We brought it straight here."

"Clarke?" Jasper said nervously. "What does this mean?"

"The Grounders didn't kill Wells," said Clarke. "It was one of us."

"So there's a murderer in the camp," Libby said.

"There's more than one murderer in the camp," Bellamy said. "This isn't news. We need to keep this quiet, okay?"

Clarke headed for the door, knife in hand, a determined look on her face.

Bellamy stepped in front of her.

"Get out of my way, Bellamy," Clarke said.

"Be smart about this," said Bellamy. "Look what we've achieved: the wall, the patrols. Like it or not, thinking the Grounders killed Wells is good for us."

Clarke scoffed. "Good for you, you mean. What, keep people afraid and they'll work for you? Is that it?"

"Yeah, that's it," said Bellamy shamelessly. "But it's good for all of us. Fear of the Grounders is building that wall. Besides, what are you going to do: walk out there and ask for a confession? You don't know whose knife that is."

Clarke showed him the inside of the handle. "J. M. John Murphy. The people have a right to know."

She stormed out of the tent.

"This isn't going to end well," Bellamy said.

They hurried after Clarke.

Murphy was in charge of the wall crew, and from what Libby had seen he'd been abusing his power.

Clarke marched right up to him and shoved him, hard. "You son of a bitch!"

"What's your problem?" Murphy said.

"Recognize this?" Clarke dangled the knife in front of Murphy's face.

"That's my knife. Where was it?"

"Where you dropped it after you killed Wells." Clarke's voice cracked.

"The Grounders killed Wells, not me." Murphy looked to Bellamy for support. "You believe this crap?"

"You hated Wells," Clarke said.

"Lots of people hated Wells," said Murphy. "The Chancellor's his daddy."

"But you're the one who got into a knife fight with him!"

"Yeah." Murphy shrugged. "I didn't kill him then, either."

"He tried to kill Jasper, too!" Octavia said loudly.

"What?" Libby looked to Jasper. "You didn't tell me that."

"He didn't succeed, so it didn't seem important," Jasper said.

"Didn't seem important? Jasper—"

"I don't have to answer to anybody!" Murphy yelled.

"Come again?" said Bellamy in a dangerous voice.

"I'm telling you, I didn't do this," said Murphy.

"They found his fingers on the ground with your knife," Libby said.

"Is this the kind of society that we want?" Clarke asked the crowd. "You say there should be no rules. Does that mean that we can kill each other without consequences?"

"I didn't kill anyone!" Murphy said.

"I say we float him," said Connor.

"Yeah!" said several people.

Clarke backpedaled. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Why not?" Connor said. "He deserves to float. It's justice."

Murphy started for Connor, but somebody tripped him—and the crowd closed in like rabid wolves, kicking and punching Murphy. A handful of thugs bound Murphy and gagged him. They threw a rope over a low-hanging limb. The other end went around Murphy's neck. They hoisted him up and let him stand on a crate.

"Bellamy should do it!" Connor shouted.

"No," said Libby quietly. "Bellamy, don't do it. You can stop this."

Bellamy glanced at Libby, but she couldn't read his expression. He walked slowly to where Murphy dangled, scrabbling desperately at the sheet metal for a foothold. The sound when Bellamy kicked the metal away sounded like a gunshot.

Finn appeared from nowhere. "What the hell are you doing? Cut him down!"

Connor drew his knife.

"Stop it!" Charlotte's shrill, little-girl shriek cut through the cacophony. "Murphy didn't kill Wells!"

Complete silence fell.

"I did," said Charlotte.

Libby wrenched Bellamy's axe away from him and cut the rope. Murphy fell to the ground, gasping.

Bellamy, Finn, and Clarke took Charlotte away.

Murphy brushed Libby aside. "Get the fuck off me. Where'd they go?"

Murphy staggered up the hill, with the rest of the delinquents in his wake.

The crowd condensed outside Bellamy's tent. Murphy paced at the front.

"Bring her out!" Murphy yelled.

Libby fought her way to Jasper and Monty.

"Can you believe that?" Monty said. "That little girl killed Wells."

Libby thought of Charlotte, clutching a knife in the dark and saying, "Screw you."

"You want to build a society, Princess?" Murphy yelled. "Let's build a society! Bring her out here, now!"

Bellamy came out of the tent.

"Look who decided to join us," said Murphy sarcastically.

"You need to back off," Bellamy said, crossing his arms. Although he wasn't much taller than Murphy, he was far more intimidating.

It was that feeling of containment, Libby thought. There was always a sense that Bellamy was holding back.

"What are you going to do? Hang me?" Murphy said.

"I was just giving the people what they wanted," Bellamy said calmly.

"Good idea. Why don't we do that right now." Murphy turned to the crowd. "Who wants to see the murderer hang? All in favor?"

Four of Murphy's buddies raised their hands. Nobody else moved.

"You guys were ready to kill me for nothing, but when that little bitch confesses you're just going to let her walk?" He was spitting with fury. "Cowards! All of you!"

"Hey!" Bellamy spoke sternly. "It's over."

Murphy raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, boss."

As Bellamy turned away, Murphy snatched up a log and hit him on the head.

"No!" Octavia sprang forward as Bellamy fell.

"Let's get the girl." Murphy beckoned to his goons.

Libby knelt beside Octavia and Bellamy. "Is he breathing?"

"Yes," Octavia said.

Libby felt the back of Bellamy's head. "No blood."

"Charlotte!" Murphy bellowed. Evidently the tent was empty. "Charlotte, I know you can hear me! When I find you, you're going to pay!"

Bellamy opened his eyes and groaned. "What the hell?"

"Charlotte's gone," Libby said.

"What?" Bellamy tried to sit up.

"Take it easy, Bell," Octavia said.

"I can't. Where did she go? Where's Clarke?"

"I'm guessing she and Finn took Charlotte," Libby said. "Murphy went after them."

"We have to go," Bellamy said.

"Sit for a second," Libby said.

"What can we do?" Jasper and Monty were peering over Libby's shoulder.

"Keep everything running as smoothly as you can," Libby said. "Keep working on the wall. Make sure people eat. Early curfew."

Jasper chuckled. "Yes, Mother."

"Do what she says," Bellamy said sharply. "Can I stand up now?"

"Slowly," Libby said.

"O, help me."

Octavia grabbed her brother's arm and tried to haul him up. "Jesus, Bell, you weigh like a million pounds!"

Libby took Bellamy's other arm. "Up you get, big boy."

"Never call me that again," Bellamy said. "Where's my axe?"

"I'll go get it." Octavia darted away.

"So what's your play here?" Libby said.

"What do you mean?" Bellamy swayed, and almost fell on Libby.

Libby wrapped her arm around Bellamy's hard-muscled waist and braced her legs. "Are you going after Murphy?" she asked.

"I can't let him just kill her. We have to do this right."

"What, like put her on trial?"

"Maybe! I don't know."

"Okay," said Libby. "We'll figure it out. Do you have an extra knife or spear?"

Bellamy gave her a sharp look. "You're not coming with me."

"Why not? You can't go out there alone!"

"This isn't your fight," said Bellamy.

"Oh, and it's yours?"

"I put the idea in her head!"

Octavia came back with Bellamy's axe. "Here."

Bellamy took the weapon and hefted it. "Thanks. See if somebody's willing to loan Elizabeth a spear."

"Elizabeth? Oh, you mean Libby. Yeah, sure." Octavia trotted away.

"You said your name was Elizabeth," Bellamy said accusingly.

"It is," Libby said. "But nobody calls me that."

"Okay, so—Libby?"

Libby nodded.

"I'll allow you to come along."

"Thanks so much," said Libby sarcastically.

Sterling approached them. "Octavia said to give you this." He handed Libby a short spear tipped with scrap metal on both ends.

"Let's go," Bellamy said.

Libby followed him out the gate. Bellamy looked in all directions and seemingly chose one at random.

They wandered around the woods in near-silence until night fell. Occasionally they heard Murphy shouting, but there was no sign of Charlotte.

Finally Libby said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Does it matter if I say no?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Go ahead. But I don't have to answer."

"That's your call. Why'd you say that you put the idea of killing in Charlotte's head?"

Bellamy sighed. "You remember that night in the cave?"

"Yes. Oh—she took 'kill your demons' literally," Libby said.

"Guess so," said Bellamy grimly.

"That's not on you."

"If I hadn't said that, she never would've killed Wells."

"Maybe not," Libby said, "but you can't take responsibility for other people's choices."

Bellamy stopped so suddenly that Libby ran into his broad back.

"How can you say that? If I hadn't told her to 'slay her demons,' it never would have occurred to her to kill anyone. She's a little girl!"

"She's a criminal, Bellamy. We're all criminals—except you. You were trying to help her. It is not your fault that she took your advice as an invitation to murder."

"Yeah, but—"

Charlotte came careening through the bushes and ran into Bellamy. She screamed.

Bellamy put his hand over her mouth. "Charlotte! It's me!"

"Let me go!" Charlotte struggled in Bellamy's grip.

"I'm trying to help you!" Bellamy said.

Charlotte wrenched herself free. "I'm not your sister. Just stop helping me." She raised her voice. "I'm over here!"

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Libby said.

"Just go, okay? I'm who they want," Charlotte said.

"Charlotte, I'm not leaving you," said Bellamy.

Charlotte screamed again. "Murphy! I'm over here!"

Bellamy handed Libby his axe and threw Charlotte over his shoulders.

"Come on," said Bellamy.

Libby followed him through the woods. Murphy and his cronies were in hot pursuit. The trees ended, and Bellamy staggered away from the edge of a cliff.

"Put me down!" Charlotte said.

Libby brandished her spear as Murphy and his four friends sprinted out of the woods.

"Give it up," said Murphy. "You can't fight all of us."

"Maybe not," said Libby, "but I bet we can take a few of you assholes with us."

Clarke and Finn ran out of the woods.

"We can talk about this," Clarke said.

Murphy grabbed Clarke. "I'm sick of listening to you talk." He held a knife to Clarke's throat. "Give the girl to me or I'll kill Clarke!"

Charlotte started forward. Bellamy grabbed her arm.

"Don't do it!"

"I have to!" Charlotte said. "I can't let any of you get hurt anymore. Not because of me, and what I did."

Charlotte turned away and leapt off the cliff. Bellamy lunged for her but missed.

Libby screamed.

Bellamy tackled Murphy. "You son of a bitch!" He started beating Murphy up.

"Bellamy, stop! You'll kill him," Clarke said frantically.

Libby grabbed Bellamy's shoulder and tried to pull him away. He wrenched his arm away and accidentally elbowed her in the face. Libby saw stars.

Finn and Clarke pulled Bellamy off of Murphy.

"Let me go! He deserves to die!" Bellamy's voice was hoarse with grief.

"No!" said Clarke. "We don't decide who lives and dies down here."

"So help me God, if you say the people have a right to decide…" said Bellamy.

"I was wrong before," Clarke said. "You were right. Sometimes the truth is dangerous. But if we're going to survive, we can't just do whatever the hell we want. We need rules."

"And who makes those rules?" said Bellamy bitterly. "You?"

"For now," said Clarke, "we make the rules."

"So, we just take him home and pretend nothing happened?" Libby said.

Clarke shook her head. "We banish him."

Bellamy seized Murphy by the collar and dragged him to the edge of the cliff. "If I ever catch you near camp, we'll be back here. Understand?"

Finn gave Murphy his knife before they left.

As they marched away from the cliff, Bellamy looked at Libby and said, "Why is your nose bleeding?"

"I think you elbowed me in the face at one point."

"Shit, I'm sorry. Is it broken?"

"I don't think so," Libby said. "How much blood is there?"

"Look at me." Bellamy held Libby's chin in one hand and gently dabbed at her nose with his sleeve. "Thanks. For your help tonight," he said gruffly. "I know we failed, but—"

"We tried to do the right thing," said Libby. "That counts for something, right?"

"I hope so," Bellamy said.


	8. Chapter 8

When they got back to camp, it was the middle of the night. Jasper and Sterling were on gate duty.

"What the hell happened?" said Sterling.

"Oh my God, Libby, are you okay?" Jasper ran to her.

"It's just by nose, Jazz, I'm fine," Libby said thickly.

"Call everyone to the fire," Bellamy said.

"Some people are already asleep," Sterling said.

"Then wake them up!"

Within a few minutes, the ninety-three were gathered around the fire. Bellamy and Clarke stood in the center. Neither of them seemed willing to speak first. Libby decided to prompt them.

"Where's the girl?" she said, deepening her voice so that no one would recognize it.

Bellamy did; he gave her a sidelong glance and raised an eyebrow. But he played along. "Charlotte is dead." His voice had a harsher timbre than usual.

Startled murmuring broke out.

"Murphy killed her, didn't he?" said Miller angrily. "That son of a—"

"Murphy didn't kill Charlotte," Clarke said. "Charlotte was killed in an accident. Which was brought about by Murphy's violent and reckless behavior. That's why we decided to banish him from the camp."

"Anybody got a problem with that?" Bellamy glared around the circle, daring anyone to challenge his and Clarke's combined authority.

"No," said Libby in her harsh fake voice. The sentiment was echoed across the fire.

"Good," Bellamy said. "Now—I want two people on watch at the gate, and the perimeter of this camp patrolled every hour. Everybody else, don't stay up too late. We still have a lot of work to do."

Jasper tapped Libby on the shoulder. "Come in the dropship."

Libby followed Jasper into the dropship. Monty was inside, crouched over something in the corner. Octavia peered over his shoulder.

"But seriously, what happened to your nose?" Jasper asked Libby.

"No big deal," Libby said. "There was a scuffle, and Bellamy elbowed me."

"Bellamy hit you?"

"That's not what I said."

"Yeah, but—"

"He didn't hit her, Jasper," Octavia said shortly. "Bellamy wouldn't do that."

"What've you guys been up to?" Libby said.

Monty looked smug. "Oh, nothing. Just setting up a wristband to contact the Ark."

"You did it?" Libby crowded in to look. The remnants of someone's wristband were in the center of a mass of metal and wires. It made no sense to Libby, but she trusted Monty.

"Someone should get Clarke. She'll want to see this," Octavia said.

"I'm here." Clarke came into the dropship. Finn was with her, as always. "What's up?"

"Monty did it," Libby said proudly.

"Will we be able to talk to them?" Finn looked doubtfully at the contraption.

"More like Morse code," Monty said. "But they'll know that we're alive."

"Nobody else on the Ark has to die," Clarke said. "Great work, Monty."

"Don't say that yet," Monty said. "I haven't turned it on." He extracted a long wire from the mess and held it out to Jasper. "Care to do the honors?"

Jasper took the wire.

"That port right there." Monty pointed.

Jasper looked around the small circle of grinning faces: Octavia, Libby, Finn, Monty, and Clarke. "Here goes nothing," Jasper said, and plugged it in.

A jolt of electricity shot through Libby's body. She cried out. There were numerous shouts and cries of pain from outside.

"What the hell was that?" Clarke said.

Monty's contraption sparked and then fell still.

"It didn't work," Monty said. "I think we fried all the wristbands."

Finn looked stricken. He stormed out of the dropship, his face crumpling. Clarke hurried after him.

Libby rubbed Monty's back. "Hey. It's okay."

"How can you say that?" Monty said. "The wristbands don't work anymore."

"Yeah, but Bellamy would've ripped them all off of us anyway," Libby said. "We tried a possible solution, and it didn't work. It's okay, Monty."

Jasper slumped despairingly against the wall. Octavia knelt down to talk to him.

"I really thought I had it figured out," Monty said.

"It'll be all right," Libby said. "We've done okay down here so far, right? And maybe we can figure out some other way of letting them know we're alive."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. We haven't figured it out yet."

"Ha, ha," Monty said sarcastically. He lowered his voice. "Don't look."

Libby looked, of course, just in time to see Octavia kiss Jasper.

Libby mouthed "oh my God" at Monty, who grinned.

Octavia left the dropship, leaving Jasper looked happily dazed.

"Way to go, buddy," Monty said.

"Shut up," said Jasper. "You guys weren't watching, were you?"

"C'mon, Jazz," Libby mock-whined. "That's the most action any of us has seen in years!"

Monty and Libby laughed. Jasper looked annoyed, but also too pleased to really be annoyed. "I'm sorry it didn't work, Monty," he said.

Monty made a face. "It really sucks. And it's all my fault."

"Don't say that," Libby said.

"It's true, but you shouldn't say it," said Jasper.

"Jazz!" Libby said reproachfully.

"I just mean that it is it what it is. It sucks, but we're doing okay, right? On our own?"

"This from the guy who got a spear through his chest," Libby said.

"We have food. We're building a wall. Yeah, people have gotten hurt, but we've dealt with it, right?" said Jasper.

"I guess," Monty said. "I mean—that's all right. But I don't know if we're exactly thriving, you know? The Ark could really help us out with this Grounder problem."

"You're right," Libby said grimly. "If the Grounders decide that we're a threat, we'll have a serious problem on our hands. But we'll deal with it. Like we've dealt with everything else so far."

"You sound like Bellamy," Jasper said.

"I have no idea if that's an insult or not," said Libby.

"It's a compliment—kind of."

"Nah, it's definitely an insult," Monty said. "Libby, you hungry?"

Under Libby's instruction, food was kept by the main fire twenty-four hours a day under guard. The guards were Bellamy's idea.

"Hey, Libby!"

"How are you, Fox?"

"Good. You guys hungry? Bellamy put me on food duty."

"Table for three, please," Monty said.

Fox giggled, and handed each of them a steaming plate.

Libby, Jasper, and Monty sat on a log by the fire to eat their dinner. Libby hadn't realized how hungry she was until she started eating.

"I can't get over how delicious meat it," Libby said.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," said Jasper.

"So much better than protein bars," Monty said.

"Now you're both doing it," Jasper said. "Seriously, were you raised in a barn?"

"Credit for my table manners goes to your mother, Jasper," Libby said.

Jasper pointed a stern finger at Libby. "You leave my mother out of this!"

Two more people joined the circle around the fire: Sterling, and a girl Libby didn't know who wore her hair in three long braids.

"Hey, Fox," Sterling said. "We just got off duty. Can we eat?"

Fox ladled out two bowls. "How's it going, Monroe?" she said.

The girl with three braids grunted. "I'm surviving. You?"

"Sounds about right," Fox said.

"How's the wall look, Sterling?" Libby asked.

Sterling shrugged noncommittally. "I wouldn't really know, but it hasn't fallen down yet. If it does, Miller will have hell to pay."

"Who's Miller?" Jasper said.

"You know Miller," Libby said. "He worked with Aunt Beru in Mech-E. He's good at building shit."

"Aunt Beru?" Monroe said.

"Jasper and Libby are cousins," Sterling explained to his friend.

"How?" Monroe's brow wrinkled.

"What do you mean, how?" Monty said.

"Don't your parents need siblings to have cousins? Last I checked, siblings are illegal on the Ark," Monroe said.

"Shit, she's right," said Sterling. "I never realized. So are you guys really cousins?"

Jasper and Libby glanced at each other. Without a word, each held out a fist and performed a quick game of rock, paper, scissors. Libby lost, rock to paper. It wasn't fair; Jasper almost always chose scissors.

"Third cousins, technically," Libby said. "When shit hit the fan on Earth, two brothers were working on Ag Station. The Jordan brothers both married and had sons, and those sons had sons, for three generations."

"Until Libby," Jasper put in. "The Jordan name might die out because of her missing Y chromosome."

"I'd rather be missing a Y chromosome than a brain," Libby shot back.

Jasper gave her the finger.

"So when Libby says 'Aunt Beru,' she means Jasper's mom," Sterling said. "That's so weird. You guys are like…what's that word? Anachronistic."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Monroe said.

"In the wrong time," Jasper said. "He's right. Nobody except the Jordans has had a cousin in a hundred years."

"We're like unicorns," said Libby.

Monty snorted. "Or dinosaurs."

"So are your folks good friends?" Sterling asked. "Your dads are second cousins, right?"

"That's right," said Libby shortly.

A brief, awkward silence fell.

Monty coughed. "Um, Libby's parents are dead."

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry," said Sterling. "Foot in mouth disease."

"No, it's fine," Libby said. "I mean, it's hardly a unique story on the Ark. How many people haven't lost at least one parent to floating or disease?"

A somber silence fell around the circle.

"I'm full." Libby stood and dumped her bowl back into the pot. "Thanks, Fox."

Once she was away from the fire, Libby realized she had nowhere in particular to go. She awkwardly circled the perimeter of the camp and ended up at the gate, where Miller and Harper were on guard duty.

"Can I have a look?" Libby asked.

"Sure thing." Harper hopped down from her post and handed Libby her spear. "I really have to pee."

The ends of logs stuck out from the wall and gave Libby a secure foothold. She hoisted herself up about five feet off the ground and peered over the wall.

The forest was dark, and nothing larger than a rabbit stirred. Libby's eyes flicked back and forth among the trees, but she didn't see anything interesting.

"God, this is boring," she said.

"You're telling me," Miller said. "I have to be out here until dawn."

"That sucks," Libby said. "The wall looks good, though. You did a good job."

"Thanks for saying that," Miller said. "Mostly people have complained that the camp is too small. Reminds them of being in the Box, I guess."

"Maybe, but the view's much better here." Libby tilted her head back and gazed up into the sky. One of those bright dots was the Ark, but she had no idea which one. She was familiar with a few constellations from Astronomy class, but not enough to say anything insightful.

Harper jogged back to the gate, a mischievous grin on her face. "You guys, get down here. I just saw something crazy and I have to tell you right now."

Libby and Miller hopped down from the wall.

"This better be good, Harper," Miller said. "God knows I'm bored as hell."

"Yes," said Libby. "The ground has proved extremely boring thus far."

Harper rolled her eyes. "Okay, jackasses. Do you want to know what I just saw or not?"

"I do," Libby said reluctantly.

Their time in prison had been kept interesting by such gossip: this couple got caught by the guards, these friends were fighting, there was an orgy in that cell. Libby was grateful she'd never been the subject of the stories. She was far from innocent, but she was smart enough not to get caught. Except for that time she got arrested.

"Okay," said Harper. "You guys know Roma, right?"

"Oh, yeah," said Miller. "She was my first kiss."

"What? No way! You never told me that," Libby said.

"I'll tell y'all that after Harper tells us whatever she saw Roma doing," Miller said.

"Roma and her friend—what's-her-name, the blond with the big eyes-?"

"Edith?" Libby said.

"Ugh, is that seriously her name?" said Harper. "That's gross."

"Yeah, but she's hot, so it's okay," Miller said. "So, Roma and Edith-?

"Oh, right. I just saw the two of them go into Bellamy's tent— _with_ Bellamy!"

Libby and Miller said nothing.

"Oh, c'mon, you guys! You know Bellamy's been hooking up with every girl over like fifteen, right? You can't be that oblivious."

"Apparently, I can," Libby said drily. "Wow, seriously? He's like twenty-one. Isn't that kind of slimy?"

"I guess," Harper said. "But don't you think he's hot?"

Libby thought of Bellamy's hands, big and warm: on her face, wiping blood away; on her arm, soothing her into sleep; on Charlotte's shoulder, reassuring—

"Sure," Libby said.

"Girls think Bellamy's hot? That is helpful information," Miller said. "You'd tell me if they thought I was hot, right?"

Harper and Libby traded glances and burst into giggles.

"Assholes." Miller pouted, pretending to be offended.

"Okay, so Bellamy, Roma, and Edith are in Bellamy's tent," Libby said. "Harper, do you really think they're-?"

Harper's head bobbed vigorously. "Murphy's lurking nearby, and every time somebody gets too close he chases them off."

"I would not want to be Murphy right now," said Miller.

"Or ever," Libby said.

"Preach." Miller held out his fist. Libby bumped hers against it.

Harper and Miller clambered back up the wall, and Libby squatted against its base. She didn't feel like going to the tent she shared with Monty and Jasper. They were her best friends, but things were always awkward after someone brought up Libby's parents.

As she'd said, it was hardly a unique story. But it still sucked. Libby's dad had been the chief archivist on the Ark. Libby spent much of her time as a toddler wandering the stacks, pulling out random books and watching or listening to tapes and discs. They'd lived on a different station, so Libby had a different set of friends, none of whom were among the delinquents.

When Libby was six, her dad got sick. Dr. Griffin said that it was a virus that was eradicated hundreds of years ago. Maybe Libby's dad had picked it up from the dust in some old book. They didn't know. But Freddie Jordan was dead within a week.

Libby's mom, Andrea, spiraled into depression. Libby spent a lot of her time with neighbors, or wandering the Ark, because her mom wouldn't get out of bed. On her good days, Andrea worked as a zero-G mechanic. She was good at her job, but her declining mental health made things difficult.

Dr. Griffin prescribed anti-depressants, but Andrea didn't take them. Libby thought her mom flushed the pills, but as it turned out, she'd been selling them. Giving them away, really. To lower-class citizens who couldn't afford them. It was a noble gesture, Libby always thought. Shortly after Libby's eighth birthday, her mom was caught selling Prozac. The penalty, of course, was floating. They wouldn't let Libby watch.

After that, nobody knew what to do with Libby. They might have thrown her in the Skybox just so she was taken care of, but Geoff and Beru Jordan stepped in. They said that Libby should live with family, however distant. They were the only family on the Ark. They were entitled to look after their cousin's well-being.

The Council eagerly accepted this solution. The Jordans were given extra rations and a folding cot—no quarters on the Ark could hold a family of four—and Libby moved to Ag Station.

Jasper, a scrawny boy with big eyes and mop of dark hair, was wary of Libby. Why was there a strange girl in his bedroom? Sharing his food, his parents? The adults wouldn't answer him outright.

One night, Libby sobbed so hard her cot shook. She was lonely, homesick, and sad. And nobody had remembered her birthday.

A small hand plucked at her covers. "Hey, are you okay? What's the matter?"

Libby couldn't speak, she was crying so hard.

"I'll just wait." Jasper sat on the edge of Libby's cot while she cried herself out.

"I'm sorry." Libby sniffled. "I know you don't want me here."

"Nobody asked me if I wanted you," Jasper said. "I don't know why you're here. Mom says you're my cousin, but I don't know what that means."

"Me, neither. All I know is my parents are dead." Libby's voice broke on a sob.

They sat up talking for another hour, about anything but parents. Then Jasper suggested that she push her cot against his bunk.

"If you feel sad, all you have to do is reach out to me," Jasper said.

They slept that way for five years.

Libby was startled out of her brooding thoughts by shouting. People were gaping at the sky and pointing. Wiping her damp cheeks, Libby stood and looked up, too, just in time to see a parachute unfurl like a bird's wings.

"Someone's coming!"


	9. Chapter 9

The delinquents gathered in the center of their camp, gaping at the sky. Libby found Jasper in the crowd and stood next to him.

"Hey," Jasper said quietly. "I'm sorry about earlier. I know you don't like talking about your parents."

"It's fine," Libby said.

"Have you been crying?"

"Fuck off."

Octavia appeared on Libby's other side. "Bellamy, get out here!"

Bellamy emerged from his tent shirtless. Sweat glistened on his muscular torso, and his damp curls were stuck to his face. Roma and Edith appeared behind him, wrapped in blankets and apparently naked.

Harper was right, Libby thought. What the hell is his problem? Charlotte died a few hours ago!

"They're coming to help us," Jones said loudly. "Now we can kick some Grounder ass!"

"I hope they sent shampoo," Roma said wryly.

Libby ran a hand through her lank, greasy hair. Shampoo wouldn't be the worst thing the world.

"I want somebody on top of the dropship," Bellamy said. "Mark where it goes down."

"I'm on it," Jones said, and hurried away.

Libby stared fixedly at the incoming pod as it drifted over the treetops, slowly losing altitude. Eventually, she lost sight of it among the trees.

Minutes later, Jones ran out of the dropship and made a beeline for the meeting tent.

"Did you see it?" Libby said.

"Yeah," Jones said shortly.

"We need to be ready to go after it," Octavia said.

"We can't all go," said Libby. "We can't leave the camp unguarded."

"Fine," said Octavia. "Ten people?"

"Make it six, plus Bellamy and Jones," Libby said.

Libby followed Jones into the meeting tent.

"What are you doing in here?" Bellamy said. He was wearing a shirt now, and a jacket. His axe hung on his belt.

"Helping," Libby said. "Jones, what did you see?"

"I lost sight of it when it went over the ridge," Jones said. "So it's probably by the lake."

"Great," said Libby. "Octavia's assembling a team."

As if summoned, Octavia ducked into the tent. "We should get going."

Bellamy shook his head. "Nobody's going anywhere while it's still dark. It isn't safe. Be ready to leave at first light."

"I don't know if we can afford to wait that long," Libby said.

Octavia nodded in agreement. "Everybody around here saw that thing come down. What if the Grounders get there first?"

"It's because of the Grounders that we have to stay put," Bellamy said. "It isn't safe to travel at night."

"We won't go unarmed," Libby said. "If we take enough people—"

"This is not up for discussion!" Bellamy said sharply. "The Grounders have a huge advantage over us, especially at night. They know this terrain much better than we do. And we'll never find it looking the dark. Unless you have night vision. Do you have night vision, Lizzie?"

"It's Libby and you know it, jackass," Libby said. "Fine. We'll wait. But not for long."

"Fine," Bellamy said, clearly irritated. "One hour."

Miller and a few others were waiting outside.

"We leave in an hour," Octavia said authoritatively. "Don't go far."

Everyone was too hyped up to go to sleep. They all milled around the camp restlessly. Libby and Octavia ensured that a watch was kept on the walls, just in case.

The sky was barely beginning to pale when Finn and Clarke hurried through the gate. Libby hurried to meet them.

"There you are! You saw that, right? It has to be supplies."

"We'll find out," said Clarke. "Let's go get it."

"We've already got a team," Libby said. "Bellamy made us wait."

"Where is Bellamy?" Clarke asked.

"He's in his tent," Libby said. "But I wouldn't—"

Clarke brushed past Libby.

"—disturb him," Libby finished.

"Why not?" Finn said.

"He's, um, got two girls in there," Libby said.

"Shit," said Finn.

They hurried after Clarke and burst into Bellamy's tent.

Roma stood in the center of the tent, holding up her shirt to cover herself. "Oh, great, it's a free show. Take a look, everybody!"

"Where's Bellamy?" Libby demanded. "We're supposed to leave soon."

"He took off a while ago," Roma said.

Clarke turned to Libby and Finn. "He told everybody to stay. Whatever's in that thing, he wants it," she said. "We need to get to it before he does."

"Do you guys want backup?" Libby asked.

"No, you stay here," Clarke said. "If people know Bellamy tricked them, there'll be trouble. Keep everybody calm and working."

"What should I tell the people who were going to go looking?" Libby said.

"Tell them I said stay put," Clarke said.

"Hopefully they'll accept that," Libby said.

"They will," Clarke said.

Finn and Clarke left. Libby looked around for Octavia but didn't see her. She found Miller instead.

"Clarke came back and called the mission off for now," Libby said. "They're going to check that everything is safe."

Miller shrugged. "Okay."

When the sun came up properly, Libby set people to various tasks to keep them occupied. She set rotating watches, and found things around the camp that needed building or fixing. Miller had ideas about a smokehouse for their meat, so Libby put him in charge of that.

The sun was almost directly overhead when Clarke, Finn, Bellamy, and a girl Libby didn't know sprinted back into camp.

"We need people to go out, now," Clarke said.

"Why, what happened?" Libby said.

"I'll explain on the way," Clarke said. "Get a crew."

Libby looked around. "Jones, Connor. Grab Derek and Max. Meet at the gate."

"Everybody looks busy," Finn said.

"Yeah, but it's been tricky," Libby said. "People keep asking when we're going after the cargo pod."

"It wasn't a cargo pod," said the strange girl. "It was just me."

"Okay, so what are we going after?" Libby said.

"The radio," the girl said.

Jones appeared at Libby's side. "We're ready."

"Miller!" Libby called to him. "You're in charge, okay?"

"What—okay?"

Libby followed the rest of the crew into the woods. She practically had to sprint to catch up with Clarke.

"Tell me what happened."

"Raven came down from the Ark," Clarke said. "They're about to kill 300 people to conserve oxygen."

"Well, fuck," Libby said. "What are we doing about it?"

"Bellamy threw the radio in the river," Clarke said. "We're going to look for it."

Libby slowed slightly, letting Clarke run ahead, until she was jogging alongside Bellamy. "Why'd you throw the radio in the river?"

"We don't want them down here interfering," Bellamy said.

"They could really help us! And what about the people who are going to die?"

"I didn't know about that," Bellamy said gruffly.

"Would you still have done it if you had?"

Bellamy didn't reply, and Libby didn't press him for now. He wasn't one of the delinquents; who knew what he'd done to get on the dropship with Octavia. Whatever he'd done, he didn't want the Ark to know.

It occurred to Libby that she hadn't seen Octavia in a while. Miller will tell her what happened, Libby thought. She'll help him keep everybody calm.

Bellamy led them to a riffle, where shallow water ran over rocks.

"I threw it from here," he said.

"We need to be systematic about this," Libby said.

Clarke nodded. "It's more likely to have washed downstream. Finn, Raven, Jones, and I will start here and work our way down. You take the others a little upstream."

They fanned out across the river and started looking, overturning rocks and checking the upstream side of obstructions. Bellamy stood alone on the bank, watching.

After about fifty yards, Libby called a halt. "No way Bellamy threw it farther than this. Let's turn around and go over it again, but switch places so you're not looking at the same riverbed twice."

They obeyed her without question, which surprised Libby. Maybe it's just whoever's smart enough to come up with a plan, Libby thought.

Before Libby's team returned to their starting point, Jones shouted: "I found it!"

Raven took the radio from Jones and examined it.

"Can you fix it?" Clarke said.

"Maybe," said Raven. "It'll take half the day just to dry it out and find what's broken."

"Like I said," said Bellamy, "it's too late."

Clarke sloshed to Bellamy and shouted in his face. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you even care? Three hundred people are going to die today, because of you!"

"Wait," Raven said. "We don't need to actually talk to the Ark, right? We just need to let them know we're down here."

"How do we do that without a radio?" said Finn.

Raven grinned. "I can make flares, using fuel and parts from my pod. Only thing is, I'd need more power."

"Monty can do that," Libby said. "He can tie in the batteries from the dropship. I'll go back to camp and tell him. Is eight people enough for you, Raven?"

Raven nodded. "Should be. We need the fuel, control panel, firing circuits—"

"You'll have to make do with seven," Bellamy said. "Libby shouldn't go back to camp alone. It isn't safe."

"You just don't want to help," Clarke said accusingly.

"I can get our people organized," Bellamy said.

Clarke glared at Bellamy for a few seconds. "Fine," she said. "We don't want you dumping the rocket fuel in the dirt or something."

Bellamy looked at the ground.

"I want three launch points," Raven said. "Steep inclines for the flares to shoot up. They should be metal, so they don't catch fire."

"Got it," Libby said, and jogged away from the river.

Bellamy followed. "I think we can take struts from the ship without collapsing it. Those would make good launch points."

"Sounds good," Libby said tersely.

"Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because of what I did," Bellamy said.

"You weren't supposed to be on the dropship." Libby spoke succinctly to save her breath. "Whatever you did to get there, it was bad. You don't want the Ark to know."

"If I'd known about the culling, I wouldn't have thrown the radio away. I don't think."

"Don't think about that right now. We still have a chance to save those people. Let's give it our best shot, okay?"

"Okay."

Setting up the flares took the rest of the day. Miller organized the building of the launch points. Monty unhooked the batteries from the dropship and ran long wires out to where the others were working. When Raven returned to camp around sunset, she tweaked a few things and set up the flares. Libby didn't understand most of what was happening, but she could follow directions.

It was dark by the time they finished. Everybody gathered around to watch the flares launch, cheering when the flaming lines arced across the sky.

"Think it'll work?" Monty said.

"I don't see why not," said Libby. "It's a clear night."

They watched the sky until the light from the flares faded. People began to disperse, either to sleep or go on watch.

Libby volunteered to take the first watch at the gate. She clambered up the wall and found a perch, her back to one log and her legs dangling into the camp. Flickering firelight lit the closest trees, but she couldn't see much beyond that.

She'd been there less than an hour when Bellamy knocked on the wall below her.

"Can I talk to you?" he said.

Libby pushed herself off the wall and jumped. It was about ten feet to the ground. She landed, stumbled, and fell into Bellamy's warm bulk.

"You okay?" His strong hands gripped her arms and pulled her upright. He let go of her immediately, as if she were made of hot metal.

"I'm fine." Libby brushed the hair out of her face. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You were right," Bellamy said. "About why I stole the radio. I did something illegal on the Ark to get on the dropship."

"That's not exactly a revelation—"

"I shot the Chancellor," said Bellamy quickly.

Libby blinked. "Oh. That's not great."

"Personally, I think he deserved to die, but they'll probably kill me if they come down."

"Maybe not," Libby said. "There's not an oxygen limit down here."

"I shot a man! He didn't die, but still."

Libby tapped her finger against her lips, thinking. "You did it for your sister?"

"I didn't want her to be alone," Bellamy said.

"I get it. Why are you telling me this?"

Bellamy shrugged. "You…basically guessed it. I wanted you to know. You would've done the same thing for Jasper, right?"

"Probably." Libby sighed. "God, I really hope the flares work."

"Me, too," said Bellamy.

Libby waited, but Bellamy didn't say anything else.

"I'm on watch," Libby said pointedly.

"Right." Bellamy stuck his hand in his pocket. "I, um, found something today. In the river. I thought you might like it."

He held out his hand. Nestled in his palm was a flat piece of pale rock. Spread across its surface, slightly darker than the surrounding material, was the clear outline of a leaf.

"A fossil!" Libby reached for it eagerly and cupped it in both hands. "Thank you!"

"It's nothing," said Bellamy gruffly. "I thought it was cool, and I couldn't think of anybody else who'd find it interesting."

"You're probably right about that." Libby ran her fingertips reverently over the leaf. "Wow, you can still see the veins and everything!"

"There's one more thing," Bellamy said.

Libby tucked the fossil into her pocket and looked at him expectantly.

"I'm officially putting you in charge of food for the camp."

"Why?"

"You know about edible plants. You're smart, decisive, and levelheaded. You can handle the responsibility, and organize people to help you."

Libby's face warmed. "Um, thank you."

"Don't thank me," Bellamy said wryly. "Feeding ninety-five people won't be easy. But I trust you. I think you can do it."

He's very complimentary all of a sudden, Libby thought. She said, "I won't let you down, sir," and saluted him mockingly.

Bellamy grinned. "All right, Liz. Aren't you supposed to be on watch?"

"It's Libby."

"I know. I just like the look on your face when I get it wrong."

"Jackass," Libby said.

"It's a curse," said Bellamy. "Good night." He walked along the wall, hands folded behind his back, checking on the watchers.

Libby climbed back to her post and settled herself as comfortably as she could. She didn't want to fall asleep at her post, but she'd be there for a few hours. She pulled the fossil out of her pocket and looked at it.

It's beautiful, Libby thought, with the moonlight on it. Bellamy's so lucky to have found it. If I were him I would've kept it. Why didn't he give it to Octavia? Sure, I love plants, but I'm not his sister. That doesn't seem like Bellamy. But I don't actually know him that well. He saw it and knew that I'd like it.

The thought made Libby smile. She carefully tucked away her new treasure, and turned to the dark, silent forest.

 **A/N Hi, guys! Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate! This isn't technically late, but I thought I'd apologize anyway. I blame Christmas and Star Wars. In that order. Hope you enjoy. Feedback always appreciated. Best, ST.**


	10. Chapter 10

When Libby got off watch a few hours later, she went to the tent she shared with Jasper and Monty. Tucked against the wall was the small parachute pack in which she kept the few things she'd made for herself on the ground. She tore off another strip of parachute and carefully wrapped her fossil in it. She didn't want it to break.

Someone flung up the flap of their tent.

"What the hell?"

It was Bellamy. "Is Octavia in here?"

"No."

"Have you seen her?"

"Not since yesterday morning," Libby said.

"She went out after me, but I sent her back. I haven't seen her since," Bellamy said.

Libby studied his face. He looked genuinely worried. "I'll help you look."

"Thank you."

Libby crawled out of the tent and stood, brushing dirt off her pants. "Where have you looked so far?"

"I did rounds on the wall, and then I looked in her tent, by the fire—"

"I'll do another sweep of the camp and check the dropship," Libby said. "You check the rest of the tents."

Libby checked the entire camp but didn't see Octavia. She rejoined Bellamy at the fire. He'd assembled a pile of homemade weapons.

"Nobody I talked to has seen her," Libby said.

"It's been over twelve hours," said Bellamy.

"Do you want to form a search party now, or-?"

"We can't afford to wait." Bellamy raised his voice. "Wake up! Octavia's missing!"

A handful of people gathered around the fire, some of them looking decidedly sleep-rumpled.

"Everybody get a weapon," Bellamy said.

Jasper took a crude mace from the pile.

Clarke grabbed his arm. "Jasper, you don't have to do this."

"Do you feel up to it?" Libby said. "You haven't left camp since…that first day."

"I need to do this," said Jasper.

"If you're going, then I'm going." Libby selected a short spear and hefted it.

"We need a tracker," Bellamy said. He raised his voice. "Finn! Get out here!"

Finn emerged from his tent and almost ran into Clarke. Finn spoke earnestly to Clarke, who looked upset. Libby looked away; whatever they had going on was none of her business.

Monroe elbowed Libby. "Hey! Look up there!"

It looked like a meteor shower—except all the lights had the same point of origin. "It's beautiful," said Roma.

Raven pushed her way through the crowd. "The flares didn't work," she said.

"A meteor shower tells you that?" said Bellamy.

"It's not a meteor shower. It's a funeral," Clarke said. "Hundreds of bodies being returned to the ground from the Ark."

Raven lunged for Bellamy, spitting with rage, but Finn held her back. "This is all your fault! If you hadn't trashed my radio—!"

"He knows," said Clarke. "And now he has to live with it."

Bellamy looked away.

Libby deliberately caught his gaze and held it, silently offering her support.

"I have to find my sister," Bellamy said. "Finn? I need you to track."

Bellamy stalked away. A dozen or so others followed. Jasper and Libby waited for Finn.

"We need to find another way to talk to the Ark," said Clarke. "The oxygen level will keep dropping. If we can't get in touch with them, they'll kill more people."

"Finn," Libby said. "We need to go."

"Raven, stay here," Finn said. "Fix the radio."

"The transmitter's smashed."

Clarke and Finn traded a significant glance.

"I know a place where you might find a transmitter," Clarke said.

"I guess you're coming with me, then," Raven said.

"Be careful," Finn said. Libby wasn't sure whether he was talking to Clarke or Raven.

"Hey!" Raven grabbed Finn's arm and pulled him in for a kiss.

Clarke and Finn disappeared last night, Libby thought, and today Finn's girlfriend literally fell out of the sky. Poor Clarke.

Finn, Jasper, and Libby jogged to catch up with the search party. Finn went to the front, but Jasper and Libby stayed at the rear. Jasper was breathing heavily.

The group fanned out, holding torches and flashlights. A few people called Octavia's name, but there was no response. They traveled in the direction of Raven's landing.

Libby couldn't track the moon's movement through the canopy, so she had no idea how long it had been when Jones called out: "Over here!"

Libby and Jasper joined the others at the top of a steep hill. Several lights pointed down the hill under Jones's direction. A belt buckle shone brightly in the dark, dangling from a bush halfway down the hill.

"Isn't that Octavia's?" Jones said.

"Rope," said Bellamy.

Somebody had thought to bring one. Bellamy handed one end to Jones and tossed the other end down the hill.

"What are you doing?" said Finn.

"Need the rope to get back up." Bellamy carefully made his way down the hill using the rope, a torch in one hand. Everyone else crowded at the top of the hill, watching.

Libby took up some of the rope. If Bellamy slipped, Jones alone couldn't pull him up.

"She was here," Bellamy said loudly. "I'm going farther down."

Libby tied the rope to a tree, and the searchers followed Bellamy down the hill. When Libby reached the bottom, Bellamy, Finn, and Jasper were crouched over something.

"Somebody else was here," Finn said. He pointed. "The prints are deeper going in that direction. He was carrying her."

"If they took her, she's still alive," said Jasper. "Like when they took me."

Libby wanted badly to hug Jasper, but this wasn't the time or place.

Finn led the way, following the trail. Bellamy was right on his heels. The others strung out behind them. Libby reminded people to stay alert.

The day dawned slowly as they walked, and Libby realized how tired she was. When had she last slept? Not since before they tried to hang Murphy, she realized: two days ago. The thought somehow made her more tired, but she doggedly kept going. She wouldn't leave Jasper alone out here. Not again.

When the column stopped abruptly, Libby was looking at her feet. She ran into Monroe.

"Watch it," Monroe said.

"Sorry," said Libby. "Why are we stopped?"

"Look around," said Monroe.

Corpses decorated the trees. Some were hung, others were pinned to the trees with spears and knives. A horrible smell permeated the air.

"I don't speak Grounder," said Finn wryly, "but I think this means 'keep out.'"

"This is crazy," said Derek. "I'm not going in there!"

"Nobody has to keep going if they don't want to," Bellamy said. "No hard feelings." He lowered his voice and seemed to speak to himself. "My sister, my responsibility."

Libby craned her neck, looking for Jasper. To her horror, he marched into the hostile territory without hesitation.

"If Jasper's going, I'm going," Libby said, and hurried after him.

Finn, Roma, Monroe, Diggs, and John Mbege also crossed the invisible line.

"Why are you doing this?" Libby asked Jasper.

"I'd go into hell to find her," Jasper said grimly.

"I think we just did," said Finn, nodding at the trees.

They hiked in silence, Finn leading the way. The tracks were growing fainter in the thick underbrush and leaf cover. Eventually, Finn stopped.

"I lost the trail," he said.

Bellamy pushed past Finn and kept going, zigzagging widely through the forest. The others followed, albeit reluctantly. Libby's gaze flicked back and forth among the trees, seeking any sign of movement. She saw nothing, which only made her more nervous.

"We won't find your sister wandering aimlessly," Finn said. "We should retrace our steps and try to pick up the trail again."

"Keep looking," Bellamy said insistently.

Roman interjected: "Where's John?"

"I just saw him," said Jasper.

"He can't be far away," Libby said.

They fanned out slightly and started to look, but John's body fell from a tree next to Roma. His throat was cleanly slit.

Monroe, Finn, Bellamy, Diggs, Roma, Jasper, and Libby gathered around and stared in horror. John Mbege was definitely dead.

"They use the trees," Finn said quietly.

Libby immediately looked up, but of course the Grounders were good at hiding.

"Over there!" Diggs pointed as a shadowy figure ducked behind the tree.

"There's another one!" said Jasper.

They drew together, frantically looking in all directions. Libby spotted a Grounder running among the trees. Her throat closed up in fear.

"We should run," Finn said.

They sprinted through the forest, dew-wet ferns brushing their legs. Jasper was slower than the others. Libby stayed with him, jogging, keeping her spear up and trying to achieve three-sixty vision.

Whichever way they turned, there were Grounders. Finn and Bellamy led the way, turning sharply every time a new foe appeared.

"What are we going to do?" said Roma. "They keep heading us off!"

Jasper was gasping for air.

"Jasper can't go much longer!" Libby said.

Bellamy, Finn, and Monroe staggered to a halt.

Diggs kept running. "I am not stopping for him!"

"I'm sick of running," Bellamy said. "They know where she is!"

"What are you suggesting?" Libby asked.

"Diggs, where are you?" said Roma.

"Roma!" said Diggs, his voice faint with distance.

Roma ran in the direction of Diggs's voice.

"We shouldn't separate," Libby said.

The others took off after her.

Roma screamed. Moments later, they discovered why: Diggs dangled a few inches from the ground, his torso pierced in three places by what looked like a giant mace.

"Booby trap?" Libby said.

"They led us here," said Jasper.

"But where'd they go?" Finn looked around nervously.

"After Roma." Bellamy looked terrified. "Where is she?"

With the Grounders gone—for now—they slowed to a walking pace. Jasper was breathing easier, but Libby stayed close to him anyway.

"There she is," said Monroe.

Libby saw her, too. Roma was leaning against a tree some distance away.

Bellamy walked ahead of the others. When he reached the tree, he froze. Libby and Finn caught up to him. Roma was pinned to the tree by a spear.

"Oh, my God," Libby said.

"She only came because of me," Bellamy said hoarsely. He reached out and gently closed Roma's eyelids.

Libby thought of the previous night, when Roma was in Bellamy's tent. Libby might've thought that Bellamy didn't care about his conquests, but his expression suggested otherwise.

"They can kill us whenever they want," Finn said.

"Then they should GET IT OVER WITH!" Jasper screamed a challenge at the silent forest. "Come on!"

Libby saw at least three Grounders running at them. She stood with her back to Monroe and lifted her spear. Jasper stood to her right, Bellamy on her left.

This is probably how I die, Libby thought.

The sound of a horn echoed through the trees. The Grounders turned and ran.

"They're leaving," Monroe said.

The horn sounded again.

"What does that horn mean?" said Jasper.

"Acid fog." Finn fumbled in his pack.

"We have to run," said Monroe.

"There isn't time." Finn pulled a parachute out of his bag and snapped it open. Libby helped him spread it on the ground. They lay down in a line, then pulled the parachute over their heads.

Libby tucked the entire end of the parachute under her body, and held the edge in front of her face down with her hands. "Finn, I've got my end underneath me."

"Good idea." The parachute rustled as Finn shifted.

They fell silent, listening for the hiss of acid. Libby tried to calm her breathing by counting slowly: inhale, two, three, four, and exhale.

She was lying next to Bellamy under the parachute, pinched between his side and the edge of their shelter. Because of the lack of space, Libby laid her head on Bellamy's shoulder. There was no sound from outside, except the chirping of birds.

"The birds," Libby said quietly.

Bellamy instantly took her meaning. "There's no fog." He threw back the parachute, exposing them all to cool, fresh air.

"False alarm?" Finn said.

"Seems unlikely," said Libby.

"They're coming back!" Monroe said.

A solitary Grounder was moving through the trees.

"I think he's alone," said Jasper.

"I'm going after him." Bellamy stood.

"And what?" said Finn. "Kill him?"

"Catch him," said Bellamy. "Make him tell me where Octavia is. Then kill him."

Bellamy crept after the Grounder.

"How do we know this isn't another trap?" said Jasper.

"We don't," Finn said.

They trailed behind Bellamy as he followed the Grounder, keeping as quiet as they could. Libby glanced at the sky as they passed through a clearing. Dark gray clouds partially covered the sun, which wasn't yet overhead.

The Grounder disappeared behind a screen of ferns.

"Monroe, stand watch," Bellamy said.

They followed a short tunnel into a cavern. The Grounder lay prone on the floor. Octavia stood over him.

The siblings hugged fiercely.

"How did you find me?" Octavia asked.

"Followed Finn," Jasper said.

Octavia threw her arms around him.

Libby gave Jasper a thumbs-up.

Finn crouched over the Grounder. "She knocked him out."

"Badass," Libby said admiringly.

"Let's go before he wakes up," Octavia said.

"He's not going to wake up." Bellamy lifted his axe.

"He didn't hurt me," Octavia said. "Let's just go."

"Finn, move," Bellamy said.

"He's got a horn," Finn said.

"What?" said Libby.

The Grounder grabbed a knife from his belt and plunged it into Finn's ribs. The Grounder kicked Bellamy's feet out from under him, sprang to his feet, and held a spear to Bellamy's throat.

"Stop! That's my brother!" Octavia said.

Bellamy had the end of the spear in both hands, barely keeping it from piercing his throat. The Grounder leaned on the spear.

Libby clubbed the Grounder on the back of the head with her spear, and he fell. Libby held out her hand to Bellamy. He grasped it, and Libby heaved him to his feet.

"We have to get Finn back to camp," Libby said.

"Can't you fix him?"

Libby snorted. "I'm a botanist, not a surgeon. We need Clarke."

 **A/N: So this story has forty-two followers ! Thank you guys. That is so gratifying. Wow. I can't get over it. This is definitely the largest number of people that have ever been excited about my writing. I'm going out of town this weekend, hence the early update. Hope that's cool. Best, ST.**


	11. Chapter 11

Libby ran ahead of the others, her mind racing. Clarke would know how to extract the knife, but Libby could help her do it as safely as possible. She mentally ran through the medicines they had: antiseptics, antibiotics, immune boosters—

"Blood clotters," Libby said. "Stop the bleeding. Yarrow. Goldenrod. Yarrow we have." Libby remembered reading old survival books that suggested using moss or cobwebs to absorb blood. She couldn't think of a place where she'd seen cobwebs, but there was plenty of moss.

Libby got back to camp first, carrying a bundle of moss and yarrow.

"Get Clarke!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Fox came running. "What happened?"

"Finn's been stabbed," Libby said. "I brought some supplies. Get the sickbed ready. Monty!" Libby jogged toward the dropship. "Monty, where are you?"

"Here!"

"I need some of your moonshine as a sterilizer!"

There was a commotion at the gate as the others came in. Octavia leaned heavily on Jasper, and Bellamy carried Finn.

In the dropship, Fox spread a clean cloth over the "sickbed" while Libby dug through her pharmacopeia for what she needed.

"Boil some water," Libby said, "and then go gather moss."

"Moss?"

"I think— _think_ —that it'll help absorb the blood."

"How do you know all this?" Fox said admiringly as she hurried away.

"I read too much," Libby said to the empty dropship.

Bellamy came in and laid Finn on the sickbed. Clarke and Raven were with him. "Clarke, can you save him?" Raven said frantically.

"I need my mom!" Clarke said.

"But the radio—"

"Raven, fix it!"

Raven ran out, and Clarke turned to the bed.

"Libby?"

"I have antiseptics, antibiotics, and a coagulant," Libby said. "Fox is boiling water, and Monty's bringing alcohol for sterilization."

"Good," Clarke said.

"I'm going back out," said Bellamy.

"Fine," said Libby. "Send Octavia in. We should check her leg."

"I think a storm's coming," Bellamy said. "I'm going to tell everyone to come inside."

"Okay," Libby said shortly.

"I'll get out of your hair," Bellamy said wryly.

Monty and Fox brought moonshine and hot water. Libby made the yarrow into a warm paste and smeared it on the moss. She put a pile of St. John's wort within Clarke's reach, and soaked some of the echinacea in hot water. Libby and Clarke washed their hands with alcohol.

Clarke took some of the antiseptic (St. John's wort) and the coagulant (moss paste) and stopped the blood oozing from around the knife.

"It's a good thing you didn't remove the knife," Clarke said. "He would've bled out."

"That's what Bellamy said."

As they worked, the storm worsened. People crowded into the dropship. Raven came in, with a pile of radio equipment, and set up shop next to the sickbed. Rain rattled against the walls and roof.

Before long, Raven tried to transmit. She spoke loudly and clearly. "Calling Ark Station! This is Raven Reyes. Come in, Ark Station!"

People crowded behind Raven, listening anxiously. Libby slumped against the sickbed and put her head next to Finn's. She was so tired.

"Libby?" Clarke shook her. "Libby, are you awake?"

"More or less," said Libby without opening her eyes.

"Do you have any more painkillers?"

"Yeah." Libby sat up. "I stockpiled some opium." She rummaged in her bin of supplies and handed Clarke a small pipe stopped with clay on both ends. "It's in there."

"Calling Ark Station!" There was an edge of panic in Raven's voice.

The radio crackled. "Please identify yourself."

Libby scrambled to her feet. The people near Raven pressed in.

"This is Raven Reyes. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Dr. Abby Griffin. Now!"

"Hang on, Raven. We're trying to boost your signal."

There was only crackling for a few moments, then a woman's voice came through. "Raven? Can you hear me?"

Clarke went to stand by Raven. "Mom? It's me."

"Clarke? I thought you were dead," said Dr. Griffin.

"Well, I'm not," said Clarke tersely. "I need your help. One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder."

"A what?"

"We're not alone down here. Mom, he's dying. The knife's still in his chest."

"Dr. Griffin is on her way to medical," said the first voice. "Give her a few minutes."

"I need something to stitch the wound with," Clarke said. "A needle, or—"

"I'll make a needle," Raven said, and darted away.

Octavia came in, soaked to the skin. "The storm's getting pretty bad, Clarke."

"Monroe, close the door," Clarke ordered.

"But we still have people out there!"

"They'll find somewhere to ride it out," Clarke said.

Raven reappeared. "One suture needle." It looked homemade, but functional.

"I still need something to close the wound with," Clarke said.

"There's some loose wires upstairs," said Libby.

Clarke nodded. "That could work."

"Don't touch the blue wires in the ceiling," Raven said. "I rigged them to the solar cells on the roof. That means they're hot, you got that?"

"Yeah, I got that." Libby didn't appreciate being talked to like an idiot.

Libby climbed the ladder to the crowded second floor. She pushed her way to the wall and ripped out some red wires dangling there. Libby peeled the insulation off the wire and unwound a few of the metal strands. Each strand, she reasoned, would make a good suture.

As she turned back toward the hatch, Bellamy's dark head appeared at the top of the ladder. He was followed by Drew, Miller, and the Grounder who had stabbed Finn.

"What the hell?" Libby said. The Grounder's face was bloodier than she remembered. "Did I do that to him?"

"No," said Bellamy shortly.

"You're going to interrogate him?"

"We need to know what we're up against," Bellamy said.

Libby pursed her lips. "You're probably right. But why would he tell you anything?"

"I'll make him talk," Bellamy said grimly.

Libby went downstairs and pushed through the crowd. "Clarke, I've got wire. I'll sterilize it, and the needle. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of," Clarke said.

Libby rinsed the "needle" and wire with Monty's moonshine and laid them next to the sickbed where Clarke could reach them easily.

"The knife is at a sharp upward angle," Clarke said to her mom, "between the sixth and seventh ribs."

"How deep?" Abby asked.

"I don't know."

"That's okay. Just don't remove it yet."

Raven was pacing by the sickbed.

"Sterilize your hands," Clarke said, handing Raven the moonshine.

Raven took a swig before dumping the alcohol on her hands.

"Clarke?" Abby's voice was fading in and out. "Is there any fluid?"

Two of the guys standing behind Clarke got into a scuffle. One of them shoved the other, who staggered and nearly knocked Libby over.

Libby lost her cool. Finn was dying, and these assholes were fighting. "Everybody upstairs, NOW!"

She expected pushback, but they lined up at the ladder.

"Thank you," said Clarke. "Mom, I don't see any fluid."

"That's good," said Abby. "The pleural membranes are intact. He got lucky."

"You hear that?" Raven bent over the unconscious Finn, smiling. "You're lucky."

Clarke felt Finn's face. "He feels a little warm."

"That's okay. Fever sometimes accompanies a trauma," Abby said.

"I have yarrow," said Libby. "That could bring his fever down."

"We'll worry about that later," Clarke said.

"Then I'll go upstairs, if you don't mind," Libby said. "Keep everybody calm. Raven can help you—right, Raven?"

"I got this," Raven said.

"We'll call you if we need anything," said Clarke.

When Libby got upstairs, Octavia was coming down from the third floor.

"You look mad," Libby said. "What's up?"

"They're going to torture him," Octavia said. "They've got him tied up."

"Well, it'd help if we knew how many Grounders there were."

"He saved my life."

Libby frowned. "What do you mean?"

Octavia explained: "I escaped, and I was running, but he caught me and pulled me behind a tree. A minute later, Roma came by, and a spear got her. That would've been me."

"Hm," Libby said. "Remember the horn Finn found on him?"

"Yeah."

"We were surrounded by Grounders, but a fog horn scared them away," Libby said. "I wonder if he blew it?"

"I bet he did!" Octavia said. "I asked him to save my brother!"

"So he sympathizes with us," Libby said. "He might talk."

Octavia looked uncertain.

"We need intel," Libby said. "Three people died today, and a fourth is dying downstairs. We were helpless to stop it. I don't want to be helpless anymore."

"Yeah, well, I feel helpless right now," Octavia said.

The dropship lurched violently. Libby and Octavia staggered, grabbing each other for support. People cried out.

Libby raised her voice. "Everyone stay calm. We're safe in here."

The hatch above them opened, and Drew came downstairs.

"What was that?" he asked. "Are we under attack?"

"I think maybe a tree fell," Libby said. "We're okay."

Libby sat against the wall and put her head on her knees. She was about to drift off when Drew shook her.

"Bellamy wants to see you," he said.

Libby followed him upstairs. Bellamy and Miller were crouched over a pile of the Grounder's things. The Grounder himself was tied up, one arm to each wall, forcing him to stand spread like a starfish.

"What's up?" Libby said.

"We found these in his pack." Miller showed Libby a small metal box, filled with neatly packaged leaves and vials.

"I thought maybe you could ID some of that stuff," Bellamy said. "If he has it, it must be useful. Medicinal or something."

Libby took the box and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Has he said anything?"

"No."

"Octavia said he doesn't know English," Miller said.

"If that's true, what can we possibly learn from him?" Libby said.

Bellamy didn't reply. He picked up a leather notebook. The Grounder stained against his bonds.

"I guess he doesn't want us to see this." Bellamy opened the book. It was full of charcoal drawings. "These aren't bad."

He stopped turning pages suddenly. Libby peered over his shoulder at a drawing of Octavia, done in loving detail.

Libby glanced at Bellamy's face. His expression was stony. He turned the page again.

"That's our camp," Libby said.

On the opposite page were neat rows of tallies.

"I'm guessing there's a hundred and two of those," Bellamy said. "Ten of them are crossed out. That's how many people we've lost." He glared at the Grounder. "They've been watching us since we got here."

"We would've done the same," Libby said reasonably.

Bellamy turned to another page depicting a sinister, shadowy figure. "What the hell is that?" He took the book to the Grounder and pointed emphatically at the picture. "Is this a friend of yours?"

The hatch opened, and Clarke came up.

Libby stood up. "How's Finn?"

"The knife's out, and he's alive," Clarke said. "What are you doing up here?"

Libby showed her. "Bellamy thought I'd know what they all are."

"You know all the other plants," Bellamy said defensively.

Clarke stood in front of the Grounder and stared at his bloody face. "Well, if he didn't hate us before, he does now."

"Who cares?" said Bellamy.

"His people will care!" Clarke said. "And what happens when they realize he's missing? They'll come looking for him."

"Nobody saw us take him," Bellamy said. He showed her the page in the notebook. "In case you missed it, his people are already killing us. How many more people need to die before you realize we're fighting a war?"

"We're not soldiers," Clarke said. "We can't win!"

"You're right, we can't," Bellamy said. "Not unless we fight."

Raven's voice came faintly from downstairs. "Clarke, he's seizing!"

"I'm on my way!" Clarke disappeared down the ladder.

Miller closed the hatch behind Clarke and put a box on top of it. "Nobody else will interrupt us."

"Interrupt what? We haven't done anything," Libby said. "Bellamy, if he doesn't speak English, what's the point?"

"What else can we do?"

"I don't know," Libby said. "We're at a huge disadvantage. We're strangers here. We don't know the land. We don't know how to survive. They could kill all of us whenever they wanted to. We saw that today."

"So what do you want me to do?" Bellamy was practically shouting. "I'm not going to let any more of our people die!"

"We can't go to war with them!" Libby shouted back. "Then all of us will die!"

Someone pounded on the hatch.

"Open up!" It was Clarke.

"Let her in, Miller," Bellamy said.

Miller opened the hatch for Clarke. Octavia came in right behind her.

Clarke marched up to the Grounder and showed him a knife. "What's on this?"

"What are you talking about?" Libby said.

"The blade's poisoned," Clarke said. "What is it? Is there an antidote?"

"Clarke, he doesn't understand you," said Octavia.

Libby held out the box. "It has to be in here. You can't carry a poison around without an antidote."

Clarke snatched the box and fumbled through it. "Which is it?"

The Grounder remained stoic.

"Answer the question!" said Bellamy.

"Show us, please," said Octavia.

Still, the Grounder said nothing. Clarke looked imploringly at Bellamy.

"I'll get him to talk," Bellamy said.

"Bellamy, no!" Octavia grabbed his arm, but Bellamy threw her aside.

"He wants Finn to die! Why can't you see that?" Bellamy looked to Clarke. "Do you want him to live or not?"

"Clarke," Octavia begged. "This is not who we are. He saved my life!"

"We're talking about Finn's life!" Bellamy said.

"Do it," said Clarke flatly.

Bellamy cut a piece of seatbelt, then ripped off the Grounder's shirt. The Grounder's torso was covered in black tattoos. Bellamy hit the Grounder with the buckle end of the seatbelt. The Grounder grunted.

Libby put her hand over her mouth.

Clarke showed the Grounder the medicines. "Which one?"

The Grounder said nothing.

Bellamy hit him another six times.

"I hate feeling helpless," Octavia said quietly to Libby.

"He could at least nod," said Libby.

"He didn't let me die." Octavia's voice was thoughtful.

Libby thought she knew what Octavia was thinking. "Do it."

Octavia snatched up the Grounder's knife, which Clarke had tossed on the floor.

"Enough!" Octavia yelled.

"He's letting Finn die!" Clarke said.

Octavia drew the knife across her upper arm, and a thin line of blood appeared. "He won't let me die."

"Octavia, what the hell?" Bellamy looked stricken.

Octavia pointed to the medicines one by one. Finally the Grounder nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"This one?" Octavia held up the tiny bottle, which was filled with a yellowish liquid.

The Grounder nodded.

Clarke grabbed the vial and disappeared down the hatch.

Libby knelt by Octavia. "Good job," she whispered.

"Octavia." Bellamy put his hand on her shoulder, but Octavia flung him off.

"Don't touch me," she said coldly.

"Go downstairs and get that taken care of," Libby said.

Bellamy knelt next to Libby. "I had to do it," he said, almost pleadingly.

"I know," Libby said. "We need to know what we're up against. And Finn would've died."

"Octavia saved him," Bellamy said. "What I did—it didn't work."

"What do you want me to say, Bellamy? That torture is okay? Because it's not. But you did what you thought you had to do, and you weren't entirely wrong."

"Do you really think we shouldn't go to war?"

"There's no way we could win."

"If we had real weapons—"

"But we don't."

Bellamy sighed and stood. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know." Libby stood up, and everything spun. She briefly saw the world through a long black tunnel.

Bellamy caught her as she fell and cradled her like a baby. "You okay?"

"'M fine," Libby murmured. "Haven't slept in a while."

"You can stay up here and rest." Bellamy carried Libby to a parachute hammock and gently laid her in it. "Miller and I will keep watch. Are you cold?"

But Libby was already asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Bellamy sat on a crate, placed strategically between Libby and the Grounder. He was sharpening a stick with his knife, trying to make a spear.

Libby had been asleep for fifteen hours, mumbling occasionally. Once, she distinctly said, "Keep it up and you'll regret it."

She's a fighter even in her sleep, Bellamy thought. He didn't know Libby well, but he relied on her as much as he did himself or Miller. She was smart, and didn't take the moral high ground the way Clarke and Finn did. She even had the balls to argue with Bellamy, which he could appreciate when he was done being pissed about it. And he'd never forget how she'd introduced herself with a formal handshake, when he'd literally caught her with her pants down.

Bellamy put the spear aside. He stood and stretched, cracking his neck both ways. Bellamy glanced at the Grounder, who hadn't moved in several hours. The Grounder's chin was sunk into his chest; whether he was feigning sleep or not, at least he was quiet.

The hatch opened with a screech. Bellamy whirled, ready to angrily shush the intruder.

It was Monty. "The Jordans are on the screen. Jasper's talking to them now, but they want to see Libby, too."

"She's sleeping," Bellamy said.

"So wake her up." Monty crossed the room, glancing warily at the Grounder, and swung Libby's hammock. "Libs? Wake up."

"No," said Libby flatly.

Monty poked her in the ribcage. "Libs, c'mon. We've got your family on Line 1."

"There's only one line." Libby sat up. "Where'd this blanket come from?"

"Beats me," Monty said. "Your hair looks like something slept in it."

Libby swung out of the hammock. "Where'd my shoes go?"

"Right here." Monty handed them to her.

Bellamy had taken Libby's shoes off overnight. (She had disproportionately large feet, he thought.) He'd draped a blanket over her, too (She must be cold, he'd thought).

Libby stomped into her boots and ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it. "Aunt Beru will ask why I haven't washed my hair."

"Tell her we haven't installed indoor plumbing yet," Monty said.

Libby followed Monty down the ladder. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long. It's not noon yet."

On the first floor, the place where the radio had been was occupied by a video calling system. Jasper sat in front of the screen, wearing a headset. He saw Libby, and grinned broadly. "Monty found her. Yeah, she's fine. I think she was sleeping."

Monty ushered Libby into a seat next to Jasper and handed her a second headset. Uncle Geoff and Aunt Beru's faces filled the screen, looking both happy and worried.

Libby put the headset on. "Hey, guys."

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" said Aunt Beru. "Jasper said you were asleep. It's almost noon!"

"I hadn't slept in a few days," Libby said. "Things have been busy down here. How are you guys?"

"Fine, fine," said Aunt Beru dismissively. "What's it like on the ground?"

"Green," Libby said.

Uncle Geoff beamed. "Have you been putting your botany training to good use, Liberace?"

Libby squirmed; that nickname was not her favorite. "Um, yeah. I've found a lot of medicinal plants down here, and some things we can eat, too."

"Libby's in charge of food for the whole camp!" Jasper said proudly.

Aunt Beru gasped. "Sweetheart, really? That's wonderful!"

"Jasper's making it sound like a bigger deal than it is," Libby said, smiling. "And it's hardly an easy job."

"Well, of course not, but it must mean that people know how smart and dependable you are," said Aunt Beru.

Libby blushed under the praise. "Thanks, Aunt Beru."

"Mrs. Kane has been asking about you," said Uncle Geoff. "She wants us to tell you that the Tree is doing fine, but they miss you in the singing."

"The Council is preparing exodus ships," Aunt Beru said. "Now that we know Earth is survivable, there's no reason to delay."

"What ship will you guys come down on?" Jasper asked.

"We don't know yet," Uncle Geoff said. "But we're told that our skills will be highly valued on the ground."

"There's lots of scrap metal down here, Uncle Geoff," Libby said. "You'll have a blast."

"Ah, my kingdom for a soda can!" Uncle Geoff said.

The four Jordans laughed together.

Aunt Beru glanced at something offscreen. "They're telling us our time is up."

"No!" Jasper said.

"Don't worry, champ," said Uncle Geoff. "We'll see you real soon."

"We love you both," Aunt Beru said.

"Love you, too," said Libby. "Bye." She took off her headset, but Jasper didn't. Another woman was onscreen, talking.

"Sarah?" said Jasper. "I don't know who that is, but I'll ask around."

The woman said something else.

"Oh! Monroe! Yeah, we'll get her." Jasper took off his headset.

"I'll find her." Libby went outside, blinking against the bright light. The camp looked a little messier than it had, with storm debris strewn everywhere.

Libby found Monroe at the smokehouse, holding up one end of a beam while Miller tied it in place with wire. "Monroe, your mom's on the line."

"I'll be right there," Monroe said.

"I'll help Miller. You go," said Libby. She stood next to Monroe and put her hands on the beam. Monroe eased out from underneath the beam and hurried toward the dropship.

"Glad to see you're up," Miller said.

"Why'd you let me sleep so long? You clearly need help out here."

"Wasn't me. Bellamy's been on watch up there since last night."

"Oh." Libby thought about this for a moment. "Should you go relieve him soon?"

"As soon as I'm done with this. I want to start smoking meat so we can store it."

"Good call."

"Can you take some people out foraging? We're low on food, and it's getting colder."

"Yeah, I can do that," Libby said.

Miller climbed down the half-built wall. "Slide down so I can get at the other end."

Libby obeyed, and stood patiently while Miller worked. Not for the first time, she wished she were taller. The log she was holding was almost too high for her to reach.

When Miller was done, Libby went to the fire in search of food. There was a pile of fern rhizomes sitting on a tarp, but nothing else.

Libby snorted derisively. "I take a nap, and everything goes to shit."

She boiled the rhizomes and mashed them up. When she was done, a number of people appeared by the fire wanting breakfast.

"I'm not the only one who can do this crap, you know," Libby said sourly as she handed Sterling a plate.

"Yeah, but you're better at it." Sterling winked.

Libby scowled at him.

Bellamy was next in line. "You can delegate people for this," he said. "I did put you in charge."

Libby piled his plate high; she suspected he didn't eat often to leave more for the others. "What's my title?"

Bellamy moved to the side, so Libby could serve more people. "You need a title?"

"Yes. I want to feel validated."

Bellamy chuckled. "Okay. Vice Chancellor of Supplies."

"If I'm 'Vice Chancellor,' then who's Chancellor—you or Clarke?"

"Okay, let's avoid Chancellors," Bellamy said. "How about Quartermaster? You know, like in an old ship's crew."

"I know what you're talking about," Libby said. She smiled. "I like it."

"Good." Bellamy returned her smile. "So what's your plan for today, Quartermaster?"

"Foraging," Libby said. "We need to start stockpiling for winter."

Bellamy looked somber. "And figure out how to keep warm."

"We could cure the hides from the animals we kill," Libby said.

"Do you know how to do that?"

Libby thought. "I know it involves tannins, which come from oaks, but beyond that…?" She shook her head. "I don't know. I'll keep thinking."

"Me, too. See you around." Bellamy stalked away, holding his steaming plate.

"I expect you to eat all of that!" Libby called after him.

Harper was next in line. "What was that about?"

"What do you mean? We're talking logistics."

"Oh, c'mon," said Harper. "I've seen Bellamy smile maybe twice, and he doesn't joke around with people."

"Libby's not 'people,'" Jones interjected, grinning.

Libby's face grew warm. "Jones, can you lead a hunt later today?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jones said. "How many can I take?"

"No more than ten," Libby said decisively.

Libby put a scrawny younger girl named Mel in charge of serving. Taking a plate of food for herself, Libby did a circuit around the camp.

"I'm taking a group out gathering," Libby said to everyone she encountered. "Twenty minutes. Spread the word."

At the appointed time, about ten people gathered at the gate. Everyone carried a crude bag or basket for gathering. Libby took them to a clearing full of ferns.

"This is where breakfast came from," she said. "Dig up the roots, and we might as well gather fronds, too, for beds."

Libby set three people on watch while the others dug. It was dirty, satisfying work. They found a multitude of nuts, too, that had fallen from the trees. Libby wasn't sure what they were, but she saw no reason why nuts shouldn't be good to eat.

Monroe led the way to a place where the river ran slower, and Libby showed her people how to dig for cattail roots and overturn rocks for mussels.

"I wish we had salt for these shellfish," Libby said as they marched back to camp, tired and dirty but laden with food. "I have no idea how to preserve them."

"I guess we'll just have to eat them, then," said Monroe. "Tough break."

"We should make a place in the dropship to be a storeroom," Libby said. "If the rhizomes get wet, they'll rot."

"I had an idea about keeping everybody warm," Monroe said.

"Shoot."

"We built a wall, right? We can probably figure out how to build a hut or something. Keep a fire going in each hut all the time. And we can use the tent parachutes for insulation."

"That's a great idea," Libby said. "I'll talk to Bellamy about it."

When they got back to camp, Libby charged a few people with starting a storage space in the dropship for more than half of what they'd gathered. The rest of the crew set to chopping up fern rhizomes and shelling mussels, which they threw in a metal tub Libby set in the fire. Before long, the savory smell permeated the camp and drew eager onlookers.

Libby spoke to the people who'd gone out with her: "I want each of you to take two other people out and show them what I showed you. The more people know how to find food, the better."

By the time darkness fell, all of the delinquents had been fed. Clarke was last in line. "Good work today," she said.

"Thanks," said Libby. "How's Finn doing?"

"He's awake," said Clarke, "and we've moved him back into his tent. Raven's looking after him."

Libby studied Clarke's face, which was carefully blank. "I'm sorry," she said.

"About what?"

"I'm not stupid, Clarke. You and Finn disappeared overnight, and now Raven's here. That must suck."

Clarke said nothing.

"All I'm saying is I feel for you."

"Thanks." Clarke started eating, using a wooden fork someone had whittled. "This is really good."

"Could use some salt," Libby said.

"I know a place where there might be some salt," Clarke said.

"The same place there might have been a radio transmitter?"

Clarke looked startled.

"Again: I'm not stupid."

"Sorry."

"It's cool. You can take whoever you want to go look," Libby said.

"Thanks." Clarke left quickly, avoiding eye contact with Libby.

She thought her secrets could stay secret, Libby thought. But secrets were hard to keep on the Ark, and they're harder to keep down here.

Libby scraped out the pot and made three plates. She hadn't seen Jasper or Monty at the fire, and she wanted to make sure they ate.

"Is the food gone?"

It was Bellamy. "Not quite," Libby said. She handed him a plate. "Here."

"I already ate today."

"And you need to eat again," said Libby firmly. "You won't be any help to anybody if you starve yourself."

Bellamy didn't move. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Have you eaten today?"

Libby pursed her lips; she, too, had only eaten once. "Touché."

Bellamy smirked. "Share?"

"Fine."

They sat side by side on a log and passed the plate back and forth.

"Monroe had some ideas about building huts to keep warm," Libby said. "Do you think we can cut down more trees?"

"Probably, if we're really careful," Bellamy said. "We could haul rocks, too, and build at least partially with stone. That'd be pretty warm."

"Good thinking."

Edith, Roma's friend, sauntered by the fire. She looked at Bellamy from underneath her eyelashes, clearly waiting for him to notice her, but Bellamy stared fixedly at his plate. When Edith finally gave up and walked away, Bellamy shoved the plate at Libby.

"You finish it."

There wasn't much left, so Libby didn't argue. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"Edith was making bedroom eyes at you and you totally ignored her."

"'Bedroom eyes?'" Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be coy, Bellamy," Libby snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. What's the deal? An hour after Charlotte died, you've got Edith and Roma in your tent and the whole camp's talking about it. I mean, what the actual fuck?"

Bellamy stared at his feet.

"Fine. I guess you don't owe me an explanation. But I thought you cared about Charlotte, and I don't understand."

"They came to me," Bellamy said quietly. "And nothing happened. Okay, nothing much happened. They did most of it. And they didn't leave afterwards. Which I was cool with. Because I don't think I could've slept alone that night." Bellamy rubbed his face. He looked tired, and as young and scared as any of the delinquents.

Libby set the empty plate on the ground. "I know." She reached out slowly, hesitantly, and patted Bellamy on the shoulder. "Last night was actually the first time I'd slept since it happened. And I dreamed about it."

Bellamy said nothing, but his dark eyes were locked on Libby's.

"I dreamed about Charlotte, and Atom." Her voice caught. "He stopped to save me, and now he's dead." She looked at her feet, blinking back tears.

"Hey, c'mon." The warm weight of Bellamy's hand rested on her shoulder. "That wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it? "

"He chose to stop for you. And I could've gone out after him."

Libby shook her head. "You would've died, too. And if you die, Bellamy, I don't know what'll happen to us."

"They'll be okay. They've got you."

Libby hoped he couldn't see her blush in the dark. "You know the Ark's coming down."

"I figured they would," said Bellamy, "now they know we're alive."

"I won't let them execute you," Libby said. "They can't."

"Yes, they can."

"No, they can't! The ground isn't the Ark. The laws are different down here. They have to be. Life is valuable, dammit!"

Bellamy was quiet.

Libby stood. "I'm going to go see if they need anybody on watch."

Bellamy watched her walk away. She planted her feet solidly with each step, almost stomping around the camp. People got out of her way, smiling or nodding at her as she passed.

They respect her, Bellamy thought. They listen to her. And why shouldn't they? Libby's smart. She knows a lot. She can keep them alive.

The Ark was coming to the ground. Libby's vehement promise to defend Bellamy was heart-warming, but there was no way in hell Jaha would show him mercy. If they didn't kill him, they'd imprison him for the rest of his life. He had to leave to stay alive. Octavia wouldn't miss him too much, not after he'd tortured the Grounder. He'd fallen off the Big Brother pedestal, and there was no climbing back up. Octavia would be fine. They'd all be fine. Bellamy just hoped Libby would understand.

 **A/N: Sixty followers! Wow. Thank y'all so, so much. That's amazing. Hope you enjoy this week's chapter; I got into Bellamy's head for a few minutes, which was fun. The next few chapters should progress the romantic plot considerably, so stay tuned for that. Season 3 starts up this week and I am not emotionally prepared. The trailer looks intense. I'm excited. Best, ST.**


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Libby sat on a log by the fire and supervised the preparation of breakfast. The log was damp; there'd been ice on it that morning, but the fire had quickly melted it. She'd decided to give people two big meals a day: breakfast and a late lunch. Hopefully, this would conserve their food supply and give everyone energy for the working parts of the day. Exceptions could be made for those on overnight watch, such as dinner in lieu of breakfast.

Mel was chopping roots with a short knife, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Fox and Edith stood over the big pot with homemade pestles, mashing the food into a paste as boiling softened it. Libby had added some of the nuts collected the previous day to the pot. They looked like the hickory nuts she'd seen in books and image files, so they must be good to eat.

A handful of hungry delinquents hung around the fire.

"Don't hover," Libby snapped at them. "Does everybody have something to eat with? If not, go make something. Get out of our hair."

As they scattered, Sterling approached the fire. "Clarke wants to see you."

"What for?"

"Not sure," Sterling said. "She's in the radio tent."

"So I should go now?"

"I would," Sterling said.

"The Princess awaits," said Edith sarcastically.

The video calling system had been moved to its own tent. Libby had to crawl in on her hands and knees. Clarke was sitting in front of the screen wearing a headset. Libby hesitated; if Clarke was talking to her family, Libby didn't want to interrupt.

"Here she is," Clarke said. She beckoned to Libby. "Come sit," she mouthed.

"What's going on?" said Libby.

Clarke covered the mouthpiece. "I'm talking to the Council. I need you to give them an update on our supplies."

"I'm sure you can do that," Libby said.

"I don't know as much about our food sources as you do," Clarke said.

"Fine." Libby crossed to the screen, sat next to Clarke, and donned the second headset. She stared at the eerily familiar faces onscreen, unsure how to speak to them.

"Elizabeth Jordan?"

Libby recognized Marcus Kane from the few church services he'd attended. "Hello."

"Clarke tells us you've been instrumental in keeping the Hundred fed," said Kane.

"I've had help," Libby said.

"How are your food supplies?" Chancellor Jaha asked.

"Good," said Libby. "We've begun smoking meat, and we have a steady supply of starchy plant material. We won't starve."

"Unfortunately," said Clarke, "we'll probably die of exposure. None of us has a coat, and the only blankets we have we made from the parachutes."

"I have an idea about that," said Kane. "According to old GIS files, there was an emergency aid depot within a day's walk of your current location." He held a tablet up to the camera and pointed. "These are the coordinates."

Clarke circled the point on their map.

"What kind of supplies are we talking?" said Libby.

"Anything required for an emergency: food, blankets, medicine, tools," said Jaha. "In addition to those supplies, the depot could provide shelter for the Hundred as well as the citizens coming down from the Ark. It will be relatively easy to heat, being underground."

"What makes you think the depot is still intact?" said Clarke.

"It was designed to withstand a nuclear war," Kane said drily.

"All right," said Clarke. "It's probably worth a shot."

A woman Libby vaguely recognized spoke up: "I have to object. Project Exodus is under way. The kids should stay put until help arrives."

"It may be too late by then," Libby said. "And these 'kids' have intel about the ground that you do not. We know what the Grounders are capable of. We know how to find water, how to hunt. You need us alive. All of us."

"Libby," said Clarke warningly.

"While I take some issue with her delivery, I agree with Elizabeth's point," said Jaha. "Even if Project Exodus goes off without a hitch, the Hundred would die from exposure before relief arrives. I'd like a moment with Clarke alone, please, and I know there's a line of parents waiting to talk to their children."

"Wait—one last thing," said Libby quickly. "Comb the archives for anything on primitive survival techniques. Knowing how to cure hides would be helpful."

"Cure hides." Kane made a note. "Thank you for your time, Libby."

"Clarke, I'll wait for you outside." Libby crawled outside, moved a polite distance from the tent, and squatted on the ground. While she waited for Clarke, she parted her hair in the center and braided each side away from her face, then joined the two braids down her back. She secured the end of the braid with a piece of red wire.

Just as Libby finished her braid, Clarke emerged from the tent.

"Walk with me," said Clarke.

"So you're going after the supply depot?" Libby asked.

"Yes."

"I'd like to come with you."

"I was going to ask you to," Clarke said.

"Good."

They approached Jasper and Monty, who were shelling nuts.

"Have you guys seen Dax?" Clarke asked.

"He's at the smokehouse," Monty said.

Clarke walked away.

Monty tossed a nut. "Libby, catch!"

Libby opened her mouth, but the nut hit her forehead and bounced off. "Terrible shot."

Clarke returned. "Libby, let's go."

"Where you going?" said Jasper.

"That's classified," Libby said solemnly. "I'll be back by tonight, okay?"

"Be careful!" Monty called after her.

Libby followed Clarke into the dropship. Bellamy and Octavia stood facing each other. Octavia looked as pissed off as Libby had ever seen her.

"Bellamy!" said Clarke.

Bellamy strode for the door and made to shove past Libby and Clarke. "I'm not talking to Jaha," he said.

"That's not why we're here," said Clarke.

"What, then?" said Bellamy.

"The Ark gave us coordinates for an old supply depot," Libby said.

"What kind of supplies?" Bellamy asked.

"The kind that might help us live through winter," Clarke said. "We're going to check it out, and we could use some backup."

Bellamy glanced at Libby, then back at Octavia. "Yeah, okay. I'll get my stuff. Meet you guys in ten."

"I'm going to check on Finn before we go," said Clarke, and ducked out.

When Clarke and Bellamy were gone, Libby said, "What's up, 'Tavia? You look pissed."

"Bellamy won't let me see him," Octavia said.

"Who's 'him?' The Grounder?"

"Yes! They tortured him after he saved my life, and now they won't let me see him."

"If you saw him, what would you do?"

"Well, I seriously doubt Bellamy's treating his wounds properly," Octavia said. "Or giving him food, or water. And I want to apologize to him, for what happened."

"I thought he didn't speak English?"

Octavia hesitated. "I think he might understand me. If not the words, the meaning. He'll know I'm sorry, right?"

"He might," Libby said. "But if Bellamy won't let you see him…"

Octavia clenched her jaw.

"Octavia, just be careful, please," Libby said. "I know you empathize with him, and I don't disagree with you, but people have died."

"He didn't do that!" Octavia said fiercely.

"Maybe not, but his people did," said Libby. "Look, I don't like keeping him locked up, either. I think he saved us by blowing the foghorn. But what are we supposed to do with him? If we let him go, his people will come, and we'll have to fight."

"Maybe not," said Octavia.

"Look, can we talk about this later?" Libby said. "I'm going out for supplies with Clarke and Bellamy. We'll be back tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, we can talk later," Octavia said.

Libby went to her tent to get her pack and water pouch, then took a knife and a spear from the armory. She found Bellamy by one of the food bins, stuffing packets of nuts into his knapsack.

"That's a lot of food," Libby said.

"A lot can happen in a day," said Bellamy.

"We could get trapped in a cave again."

"That might not be so bad," Bellamy said. "We'd be warm."

"That'd be nice." Libby pulled her sleeves down over her hands. It was chilly, and it would only get colder.

Clarke approached. "You guys ready? Why so much food?"

"We've been caught out overnight before." Libby put some smoked meat in her bag.

"Let's go," said Clarke. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Clarke led the way, stopping every so often to consult her map. Their route took them across the river, though far upstream of where Bellamy had ditched the radio, and up the steep hill on the other side.

Libby used her spear to climb the ravine, thrusting it into the ground and hoisting herself up. Roots from the trees at the top of the cliff offered other hand- and footholds. She was the last one to reach the top.

Bellamy held out his hand. "Up you come, Eliza."

"Eliza?" Clarke frowned, puzzled.

Libby took Bellamy's hand, and he hoisted her up.

"Bellamy thinks it's funny to get my name wrong," said Libby.

"It's not wrong," Bellamy said. "Eliza is short for Elizabeth, right? Just like Libby." He was still holding her hand for some reason. Libby didn't mind; her hands were cold, and his were large and warm.

Libby snorted. "Whatever, jackass."

Clarke was staring curiously at them. When her blue eyes flicked to their joined hands, Bellamy started, and let go.

Libby stuck the abandoned hand in her pocket. It was cold.

After that, Libby thought that Bellamy was being very careful to keep Clarke between them. She experimented a little, slowing or speeding or moving to one side or the other. Bellamy always countered her, keeping Clarke squarely between them.

That's odd, Libby thought. Is it because of the hand holding? But that was him! If he wants to hold my hand, that's fine, but why is he trying to distance himself now? Getting embarrassed about something like that doesn't seem like Bellamy.

After about an hour, Clarke broke the silence. "You know the first dropships will be coming down soon. You can't avoid Jaha forever."

"I can try," said Bellamy.

Libby stumbled over a rock. That's it, she thought. He thinks he can't face Jaha, so he's going to run away.

Clarke stopped walking. "The depot should be somewhere around here."

A shallow valley lay before them, partially flooded.

"Hopefully it's not underwater," Libby said.

"Let's split up," Bellamy said. "We'll cover more ground."

"It's safer to stay together," said Libby, thinking, If we split up he'll leave.

"Fine," Bellamy said.

In the end, they fanned out slightly to search. Libby wasn't sure what she was looking for, exactly. An underground depot. So, a door? An aboveground bunker with stairs? An old subway station?

Luckily, Clarke was the one who found it. "Over here, guys!"

Libby was crouched on the ground, digging around with her knife. She'd found wild asparagus and cattails, and was completely sidetracked from the original search.

"Libby, c'mon." Bellamy stood over her, holding out his hand.

He's going to run away, Libby thought, and pointedly stood without assistance.

They found Clarke standing over a trapdoor, which was held shut by a rusted-over padlock. "This must be it," Clarke said.

Bellamy took his axe off his belt. "Watch your feet."

Clarke and Libby stepped back. Bellamy whacked the lock a few times with his axe until it shattered. It took all three of them to move the concrete slab aside, but beneath it was a flight of stairs descending into darkness.

Clarke hesitated. "It's dark down there."

"Lucky for you dummies, I brought flashlights." Libby rummaged in her pack and produced two portable lights. She handed one to Clarke. "After you."

Clarke led the way into the bunker, Bellamy on her heels. Libby brought up the rear, carrying the other portable light.

They reached a broad landing, with one hallway going off to either side. The stairs continued in front of them in a long, unbroken line.

Clarke halted on the landing. "Which way?"

"We should check everywhere," Libby said. "Pick a direction to start."

"Left," Clarke decided.

The hallway was narrow and damp. Water dripped from the ceiling.

"This place is a mess," Bellamy said.

Finally, they reached a series of interconnected storerooms lined with shelves. Bellamy held both lights while Libby and Clarke rummaged.

Libby went straight for the rows of cans lining one wall. She quickly discovered that the rows were only a can or two deep, and many of them had leaked. The rest had expired.

That makes sense, Libby thought. Even canned food can't last a hundred years.

"Food's no good," Libby said. "What'd you find?"

"Dammit!" said Clarke. "These bins say 'First Aid,' but they're empty."

"Well, that's okay," Libby said. "I can gather more herbs."

"Yeah, but it'd be nice to have real, clean bandages," Clarke said. "Or anesthetics, or actual antibiotics!"

"We'll keep looking," Libby said. "This isn't the only storeroom."

But the next one was the same. Libby found an empty canteen and a packet of needles, but nothing else. Clarke found a few rolls of bandages, which perked her up a little. But the next storeroom was completely empty, bins and all.

"We could use these bins for water and storage," Libby said.

"We'd need to come back with more people to carry them all," Bellamy said. "I don't think that many people should leave camp at once. What if the Grounders attack?"

"Okay, so a few people at a time?" Clarke said. "I think it's worth it."

"You guys decide," Bellamy said.

"You don't have an opinion?" Clarke said.

"I've told you what I think," said Bellamy. "But you're going to do what you want anyway, right?"

"Probably," Libby said. She saw Bellamy smile out of the corner of her eye.

Clarke and Libby stacked three bins on top of each other and began filling the top one with what little they could find. They found a couple of Swiss Army knives, but almost nothing else. By the time they descended the stairs to the lower level of storerooms, all three of them were frustrated and snappy with each other.

"No med kits, no water purifiers, no food." Bellamy angrily threw aside an empty bin.

"We can't stay down here, either," Libby said. "This place is a wreck." They'd found a partially mummified corpse on the stairs, and there were leaks everywhere.

"Hey, I found blankets!" Clarke pried open another bin and showed them the bright orange blankets inside.

"You're excited about a couple of blankets?" Bellamy snapped.

"It's something!" said Clarke.

Libby fingered the material. "It's nice and thick. These would be perfect, if we could justify staying in bed all the time."

On the other side of the room, Bellamy lost his cool and kicked over a large barrel. Dark, greasy water spilled across the floor. Libby turned around at the clattering that accompanied Bellamy's tantrum.

Bellamy stooped down and pulled a gun out of the barrel. He looked up, and locked eyes with Libby. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

"Guns," they said together.

"What?" Clarke turned to look. "Bellamy—"

"Clarke, the Grounders can kill us so easily," Libby began.

"If you could defend yourselves—" Bellamy said.

"Wait!" said Clarke loudly. "I'm not going to fight this. You're right. But I don't have to like it, okay?"

"Sounds good." Bellamy sprang into motion as soon as Clarke gave her okay. He handed Libby a gun, then flipped over the barrel and set one of the bins on top. "Libby, are there bullets in that thing?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know that, Bellamy?" Libby said. "I don't even know if I'm holding it right side up."

Bellamy snorted. "You are." He pointed. "Flip that open. That's the magazine. Are there bullets in there?"

Libby did as he instructed. "Six."

"Good. Okay, try and shoot the bin."

"What?" Clarke stepped back. "We can't just start firing guns in here!"

"Why not?" said Bellamy. "You need to learn how to do this."

Libby cautiously raised the gun to her shoulder and pointed the muzzle at her target. "Is this how I hold it?"

"More or less." Bellamy came and stood behind her. "Raise it up a little, like this." His left hand closed over Libby's and guided the gun into position, while his right hand lifted her right elbow.

Libby was suddenly hyper-aware of Bellamy's physical presence; he was basically cuddling her. She could feel the heat of his hands through her jacket, and his breath was on the back of her neck. She was tempted to lean into him, to let him enfold her and…and what?

Libby took a shuffling half-step forward. Bellamy was leaving; she couldn't afford to think about him That Way. "Can I pull the trigger?"

"Go for it, Beth," Bellamy said.

Libby started, and her shot hit the edge of the bin and spun it around.

"Close," Bellamy said. "Good first try."

"Don't call me Beth," Libby said.

"Okay?"

"Why not?" said Clarke.

Libby shifted uneasily. "It's what my parents called me," she said.

"I'm sorry," Bellamy said.

"It's fine," said Libby. "It just caught me off guard."

"Does anybody still call you Beth?" Bellamy asked.

"Jasper and his folks, but only sometimes," Libby said.

"So it's like a special family name?"

Libby shrugged noncommittally. "It's not really a big deal. But—just—"

"I won't," Bellamy said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Libby pointed the gun at the target again.

"Wait." Bellamy adjusted the bin so that it was square again. "And pull that little lever to get rid of the empty cartridge."

Libby obeyed, and the empty shell tinkled as it hit the floor. She fired three more times, and managed to hit the bin more or less in its center.

"That's good," said Bellamy. "If that were a Grounder, he'd be dead."

Libby made a face. "Don't humanize them. That makes them harder to kill." She held out the gun to Clarke. "You want to try?"

Clarke hesitated.

"I think you should," Libby pressed.

Clarke took the gun reluctantly and imitated Libby's stance. "So I just-?"

Libby sat on an overturned bin to watch. She pulled a packet of nuts out of her pack.

Bellamy sat cross-legged on the floor next to her. "Elbow up, Clarke," he said. He held out his hand, and Libby shook a few nuts into it. "Thanks."

"Mm." Libby popped two nuts into her mouth. They tasted like dirt. There was probably a lot of nutritional value in them, but Libby thought she'd prefer to get it elsewhere. She abandoned the nuts in favor of her smoked meat.

Clarke finally summoned the nerve to pull the trigger. Her shot was a little far to the right, but she'd hit the target. She turned to Libby and Bellamy, elated.

"That felt amazing!" Her face fell. "Am I a horrible person for feeling that?"

"Nah," said Libby.

"We need to figure out a system for keeping guns in camp," Clarke said. "Control who has access, make sure they're kept in a dry place."

"Top floor of the dropship," Libby suggested.

"The Grounder's up there," Clarke protested.

"Yeah. We already keep a guard up there twenty-four-seven."

"But what if the Grounder escapes?" Clarke said. "We don't want him getting hold of a gun and shooting up the camp."

"I'm not sure he'd know what to do with a gun," Libby said, "but maybe we could store the ammunition somewhere else?"

"That's a good idea," Clarke said. "Bellamy, any thoughts?"

"Sounds like you have it figured out." Bellamy took the packet of nuts off Libby's knee.

"You put Miller in charge of the Grounder," Clarke said. "You must trust him."

"The others listen to him," Bellamy said. "You should keep him close."

Clarke frowned. "We should-?" The light dawned. "You're leaving. That's why you took so many rations."

"I don't have a choice," Bellamy said grimly. "The Ark will be here soon."

"You're just going to leave Octavia?" Clarke said.

"Octavia hates me," said Bellamy. "She'll be fine. You know I shot the Chancellor. They're going to kill me, Clarke. Best-case scenario, they lock me up for the rest of my life. There's no way in hell I'm giving Jaha the satisfaction." He stood up. "I need some air. Keep practicing."

He took the stairs two at a time. Clarke made as if to follow him.

"Don't," Libby said. "He left his pack. He'll be back. Let him cool off."

"Aren't you going to try and stop him?" Clarke said.

"I've been trying," Libby said. "I told him that you were on his side, and that would help, but he's convinced that Jaha won't be merciful. And honestly? I think he's right. But we need him."

"Speaking of needing Bellamy," Clarke said.

"Please don't."

"I just thought I picked up on something."

Libby hesitated. "I don't know. Maybe you did. But it doesn't matter. He's leaving."

Clarke grunted, unsatisfied, and turned back to the target.

Libby watched Clarke fire a few more rounds. The edges of her vision were kind of fuzzy. I'm just tired, Libby thought. Clarke and I should be in charge in shifts.

After a while, Clarke said, "Where is he?"

"I'll go look for him." Libby hoisted herself off the bin. "We should probably get going soon, anyway, if we want to get back by dark. Can you start packing some of this stuff up?"

"Sure thing," Clarke said.

Libby laboriously climbed the three flights of stairs to the surface. Something was seriously wrong with her vision. The staircase was wavering, like it was made of rubber. Who'd ever make a rubber staircase? Stupid. No wonder the world ended.

Finally, cool air brushed her face. Libby clambered out of the door to the bunker on all fours. She made it about ten feet away from the entrance before collapsing underneath a bush, her world spinning wildly.

 **A/N: *chanting* Day Trip! Day Trip! Day Trip! One of my favorite episodes, and the episode where (for me) Bellarke was born. But Bellarke has no place in this story, so I changed some things. I'm very sorry about the cliffhanger. The chapter just got too long. I'll make up for it soon, I promise. As always, thanks for reading/faving/reviewing! You guys are awesome. Thank you so much. Best, ST.**


	14. Flashback!

When Libby got home from work, she went straight to the bedroom she shared with Jasper. Monty was already there; he and Jasper were playing War with a worn deck of cards.

"Finally!" Jasper sprang off the bed when Libby entered. "Did you get it?"

"Shh!" Libby shut the door behind her. "Yeah, I got it. It's the new leaves off the plants in the back. Nobody will ever notice." She stuck her hand in her jacket pocket. There was a hole there that allowed her to keep small, discreet objects in the lining of her jacket. Like cannabis leaves, for example.

Jasper produced a homemade bong from inside his mattress. Monty had a lighter made from an old battery. Libby only took one hit.

"Aunt Beru said my dress would be ready today," Libby said. "I still have no idea how she swung there. Where is there material for a new dress on the Ark?"

"Beats me," said Jasper disinterestedly. "Bet you'll look great, though."

"Thanks, Jazz." Libby ruffled his hair.

Aunt Beru was waiting for Libby in the living room. "There you are," she said. "What are the boys doing?"

"Playing cards," said Libby.

"Aurora just dropped it off," Aunt Beru said. "There was even some fabric left over, so I let her have it as part of her fee."

"Where did the fabric come from?" Libby looked curiously at the wrapped package on the table.

"An old tunic of mine," Aunt Beru said.

"Aunt Beru!"

"It was full of holes, anyway."

"You really shouldn't have," Libby said.

"Hush, sweetie, and take off that old shirt."

Libby stripped down, and Aunt Beru handed her a clean pair of leggings and a black tank top.

"Close your eyes," said Aunt Beru, and slid the dress over Libby's head. "Now come over here, where the wall's shinier." She guided Libby by the elbow. "Okay, open!"

Libby opened her eyes. She was a pale blob atop a midnight blue blur, stuck on two skinny black clouds. "I love this color, Aunt Beru." She ran the material through her fingers. "It's so soft!"

"It's well-worn is what it is," said Aunt Beru wryly.

The dress had short sleeves and hit Libby at mid-thigh. "Thank God I'm so short," she said, "or this might look trampy."

Aunt Beru chuckled. "You look wonderful, sweetheart. Want me to braid your hair?"

"I thought maybe I'd wear it down tonight," Libby said.

"What if I braid part of it over, make a headband?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Aunt Beru fussed with Libby's hair for almost ten minutes. Finally, she declared herself satisfied. "I'll go get the boys, so they can see the full effect."

"Don't bother," said Libby. "They wouldn't notice if I shaved my head."

She waited for Aunt Beru to leave the room before opening the door to the bedroom. Jasper and Monty were lolling on the floor, giggling.

"It's time to go," Libby said.

Jasper struggled into a sitting position. "Libbeeeee! You look—so—beautiful."

"Jesus, Jazz, did you smoke it all?"

"He's dramatizing." Monty looked at Libby upside-down. "You do look pretty, though. That's a great color on you."

"Thanks, Mon," Libby said. "Do you need to sober up, or can we leave now?"

"Nah, we're good." Monty sat up. "Are you meeting Orwell?"

"Yeah."

"That explains the new dress," Jasper said. He held out both hands. "Help?"

Monty and Libby hoisted Jasper to his feet. They sprayed each other with air freshener before they left.

The Unity Day Masquerade Dance was attended by everyone between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. Libby would be eighteen by the time the next Unity Day came around, so this was her last dance. Where would she be next year, she wondered. A full-time greenhouse employee. She'd get to spend all her time with the plants instead of only after school hours. What a nice thought.

They met some of their friends in the hallway outside the gathering room, where the dance was traditionally held. Old music pulsed through the halls.

"Great dress, Libby!" said Harper.

Terence inhaled deeply. "Dammit, you guys smoked without me?"

"You didn't miss much," said Monty.

"Have you seen Orwell?" Libby asked Harper.

Harper jerked her head toward the door. "He went inside a few minutes ago."

"He didn't wait for you?" Monty frowned.

"Relax, Mon," Libby said. "We're not married."

"Yeah, but he should've waited for you."

They moved inside in a tight knot. Libby recognized everyone by either sight or name. Guard Cadets moved through the crowd like sharks, ensuring that nobody was having too much fun.

Monty, Jasper, and Terence went immediately to their customary corner. Libby and Harper did a circuit of the room, saying hi to their friends. Only about half the people were wearing masks; what was the point? They all knew each other.

"There's Orwell," Harper said. She nudged Libby. "I'll see you later, I guess?"

Libby squeezed Harper's hand.

Orwell was talking to some of his buddies, guys who considered themselves too cool to talk to Libby's friends, as a rule. When he spotted Libby, he immediately ditched his pals. The room was loud, so Orwell leaned in to talk in Libby's ear.

"You look amazing!"

Libby blushed. "Wanna dance?"

"Yeah, for a bit," Orwell said. He laced his fingers with hers.

Orwell wasn't much of a dancer, but he liked Libby. They danced together for three songs, Libby's arms around Orwell's neck. He kissed her forehead.

"We've been having fun, haven't we?" said Orwell.

"Yeah, we have." Libby thought of a particularly memorable afternoon in a maintenance closet, only a month after they started dating.

"You know I really like you."

Libby pulled away to look him in the eye. "Where are you going with this?"

Orwell looked uncomfortable. "Listen, Libby—"

"If you're going to dump me, just sack up and do it," Libby said, "so I can spend the night with my friends."

Orwell took his hands off her waist. "Fine. Go, then."

Libby took a step back and held out her hand. "It's been a pleasure, Orwell."

Smirking, Orwell shook her hand. "That's why I like you, Libby. You've got a sense of humor."

"See you." Libby stalked away. She found Harper by the punch bowl.

"Is it spiked?" Libby asked her.

"Monty's finest," Harper said, and handed Libby a cup. Libby knocked it back, took Harper's drink, and drank that, too. The alcohol burned a trail down her throat.

"Orwell just broke up with me," she said.

"Shit, seriously? I'm sorry, Lib."

Libby shrugged. "No big deal. Neither of us was that into it. We just liked to fool around."

Harper looked at something over Libby's shoulder. "That guard's here."

"Which guard?"

"You know," said Harper. "The hot one who does our inspections. Don't look; he's right behind you."

Libby widened her eyes and looked around in mock terror. Harper giggled.

After a moment, Harper said, "Okay, now look. To your left."

Libby looked. "Oh, that guy. I've seen him in the greenhouse."

"His squad does kitchen inspections, too," Harper said. "We've got a pool going for who can go out with him first, but he won't talk to anybody. Not even Sandra!"

Libby raised her brows. "Wow, really? No offense, but I thought Sandra could get anybody she wanted."

Harper snorted. "'No offense,' but she's a slut. I'm shocked she didn't win it." She nodded at the cadet, who was slowly patrolling the perimeter of the room. "Why don't you take a shot at him? Now that you're a free woman."

Maybe it was the two shots of moonshine, but Libby said, "Yeah, what the hell."

"There's like thirty credits riding on this," Harper said.

"I'll split it with you," said Libby over her shoulder.

She followed the cadet for a few minutes, just watching. He didn't speak to anyone, not even his fellow cadets.

That's odd, Libby thought. Cadets usually have a rapport with each other.

When the cadet stopped to stand against the wall, Libby sidled up to him and leaned against the wall next to him.

"Hi," she said.

"I'm on duty," he said tersely. Libby liked the sound of his low, gravelly voice.

"No problem," Libby said. "I'll help you watch. What are we looking for?"

"Suspicious activity."

"And what qualifies as suspicious?" Libby cocked her head to one side and peered into his face. He had dark, intense eyes. In spite of herself, Libby was intrigued.

The cadet's dark eyes slid sideways and locked with Libby's. "Mostly, we're supposed to stop people from fighting."

"Makes sense," Libby said. "A bunch of horny teenagers in a dark room, there's bound to be brawling involved."

The cadet smirked but said nothing.

Libby decided to try a different tack. "Look, my friend thinks you're cute. She sent me over here to, I don't know, warm you up?"

"Is that so."

"Yeah, but you know what? I think it'd take a solar flare to warm you up," Libby said. "What's your deal, man? I've seen you around, but I've never seen you talk to anybody."

He finally turned his head and looked at her squarely. "You mean, why don't I gossip and flirt like everybody else?"

"We must seem really juvenile to you."

He shrugged. "I was where you were, a few years ago. How old are you?"

"Just turned seventeen."

"Do you know where you're working next year?"

"Probably the greenhouse," Libby said. "I spend all my free time there. They know me."

"It's a good job."

"Not as good as Guard," Libby said.

"Being on the Guard isn't that great," the cadet said.

Libby waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

"You are a delight," she said.

"I'm not here to entertain you."

An alarm blared. A calm, female voice came on the intercom: "Solar flare alert! All citizens report to shelter zones immediately!"

"You jinxed it," the cadet said.

Libby opened her mouth to reply, but he was already gone.

Harper grabbed Libby's arm. "You got farther than any of us! C'mon, let's get to the shelter."

It wasn't until the next day that Libby heard about the Blake siblings.

 **A/N: Surprise! Midweek update! This is me trying to make up for the cliffhanger, because y'all have been so awesome. There will be a current-timeline update on Sunday as usual. Hope everybody's having a good week. Best, ST.**


	15. Chapter 14

Libby lay sprawled under a bush, staring at the darkening sky. The stars were sliding in and out of focus. One of them was spiraling lazily through the sky, leaving behind a bright trail of light. Libby traced it with her finger.

"So pretty," she said.

"It won't last."

Libby tried to sit up but failed spectacularly. "Mom?"

"Be realistic, Elizabeth. I'm dead, and the stars don't move."

"But they do," Libby said. "They're spreading from the center of the universe—"

"Don't be smart. You know exactly what I mean. Whatever is making you see things and hear my voice will go away eventually. Then you'll stand up and keep walking. Like you did after I died."

"I didn't have a choice," Libby said. "You didn't give me a choice."

"You left behind your home, your friends—even your name."

"I was eight years old! I didn't know what else to do!"

Her mother said nothing.

"Mom?" Libby couldn't see her; she couldn't even turn her head. She stared fixedly at the sky. "Mom, where'd you go?"

The voice was right in her ear. "Beth, sweetheart. You have get up and keep walking."

"They wouldn't let me see you," Beth sobbed. "They wouldn't let me watch."

"Of course they didn't. No child should see that."

"But I wanted to see you!"

"No, sweetheart, you didn't. You didn't want to watch the air get sucked out of my lungs."

"You were all I had!"

"I know, Beth. I am so sorry. I wish things had gone differently. But you have to get up and keep walking."

Tears rolled down Beth's cheeks. "I can't. Mom, I can't move."

"One thing at a time. Roll over, Beth. You can do it."

The voice was in her right ear. With a massive effort, Beth turned to look. There was nothing there. "Mom?"

"Good girl. Roll over. Move, sweetheart. Get up and keep walking."

Painfully, slowly, Beth rolled onto her side. She put her hands on the ground, rolled onto her stomach. The dirt was cool and wet. She liked that.

"Get up, Beth. Get up."

"I can't," Beth whispered into the dirt.

"You have to, sweetheart."

Beth coughed. "Mom, what's wrong with me?"

"You're high," a new voice said cheerfully.

"Dad?" Beth raised her head up, looked around wildly. "Daddy?"

"You're hallucinating, honey."

"I know," Beth said. "How do I stop it?"

"You ate something bad."

"What did I eat? Just some smoked meat and—those nuts. But I've eaten them before. Cooked."

"Beth, sweetheart, you need to stand up," her mother said. "Listen."

Beth fell silent and tried to calm her breath. Neither of her parents spoke. For a moment, all she heard was the sound of rain on the leaves of her bush. Then, faintly, she heard Bellamy shouting hoarsely:

"Kill me!"

A fist clamped around Libby's heart.

"He needs your help," said Dad's voice.

"Get up, Beth," said Mom.

She straightened her elbows, hoisting her torso off the ground, and painstakingly bent each knee. Once she was stably on all fours, Libby lifted her right hand and stuck her fingers into her mouth, as far as they would go.

It took a few minutes, but she triggered her gag reflex and coughed up the sparse, watery contents of her stomach. She thought she could see the nuts in her vomit, but it was dark and hard to tell for sure.

After another minute, Libby tried to stand up. Her head went straight into the bush, and her braid got tangled. She recklessly tore her hair free, leaving a few strands behind and loosening others. Wisps of hair straggled on her face and neck.

When she finally stood up, the world spun, and she vomited again. Her throat burned.

"Water," she said.

"Later," said her mother.

Libby straightened her back and looked around. The valley was washed in silvery moonlight, and a fine, misty rain fell over the scene.

"Bellamy?" she called.

"Just kill me!"

She followed his voice up the side of the valley. The trees grew thicker, and the moonlight dimmed. The cool rain on Libby's face was refreshing.

"Kill me, please! I deserve it!"

Libby broke into a shambling jog. She tripped and almost fell a few times. Finally, she saw Bellamy through a break in the trees. He was standing over something, pointing a gun—

Wait, she thought. Bellamy didn't take a gun.

The moon came out from behind a cloud and illuminated Bellamy's face. He was prone on the ground, raising a pleading hand. "Just do it!"

That's Bellamy, Libby thought. Then who's pointing a gun at him?

There was no time for further thought. The mystery man raised his gun. Libby ran, leapt, misjudged the distance horribly, and collided with the back of his knees.

Luckily, it was enough. The gun went off, but the shot went up. Libby stood, staggering, and jumped again. This time, she landed squarely on the guy's back. She wrapped her right arm around his throat and held it in place with her left hand.

"Bellamy, get his gun!" Libby said.

The guy threw his head back and headbutted Libby. She cried out.

Bellamy staggered to his feet.

The guy headbutted her again. Libby, still wobbly from her high, lost her grip and tumbled to the ground. The guy whirled—it was Dax—and pointed the gun at Libby's face.

"No!" Bellamy barreled into Dax from behind, and both of them fell on top of Libby. She grunted, and tried unsuccessfully to punch Dax. The gun was pinned painfully against Libby's ribcage. She hoped that Dax's finger was nowhere near the trigger.

Dax's hood had fallen back in the scuffle, leaving his ear exposed. Libby craned her neck and sank her teeth in.

"Ow! What the fuck!" Dax ripped his head away, leaving Libby with a chunk of human ear in her mouth. She spat it out.

Bellamy and Dax rolled away, struggling with the gun. Libby staggered to her feet, wiping blood off her mouth. She circled them, seeking an opening.

Dax threw Bellamy to one side, and he fell against a tree. Libby dove for Dax, driving him face-first into the dirt. He threw her off easily, and pinned her on her back.

Libby squirmed.

Dax pressed the muzzle of the gun against Libby's neck.

"Sorry, Libby," he said. "Shumway said no witnesses." Blood from his ear dripped onto Libby's face.

Bellamy eclipsed the moon in Libby's field of vision. He wrenched Dax's head to one side and drove something into Dax's neck.

Dax fell aside. Libby pushed the gun off her neck. She sat up, rubbing her throat to assure herself that it was still intact.

Bellamy slumped back against the tree.

Libby crawled over to the tree and sat beside him. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not," Bellamy said. "If my mother knew what I've done…she raised me to be better. To be good. And all I do is hurt people." He sniffled. "I'm a monster."

"Hey." Libby put her hand over his and squeezed it. "No, you're not. You saved my life a minute ago. You've kept ninety-nine complete strangers safe. We'd all be dead if it weren't for you and Clarke."

Bellamy looked away. "But three hundred and twenty people would be alive."

"Hey, it's done, okay?" Libby said. "If you want forgiveness, I can do that. You're forgiven. But you have to get up and keep walking. And you can't run away."

"I have to," Bellamy said hoarsely.

Clarke's voice came faintly through the trees. "Libby? Bellamy?"

"Over here!" Libby called.

Bellamy made as if to stand up. Libby put her arm across his chest. "Like hell," she said.

Clarke came jogging unsteadily through the trees, carrying a gun. "Dax is here. He knocked me out. Have you guys—" She stopped short when she saw Dax lying prone, Libby's and Bellamy's bloody faces. "What the hell?"

"Thanks for the heads-up, Clarke," Libby said drily. "How's your head?"

"All right."

Libby patted the ground beside her, and Clarke sat down wearily.

"Did you guys hallucinate, too?" Clarke asked.

"Yeah," said Bellamy shortly.

"I had a great conversation with a bush," Libby said. It was partially true.

Clarke chuckled darkly. "What was Dax doing here? What did he want?"

"He was sent to kill me," Bellamy said.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know why," Libby said, "but Dax said, 'Shumway said no witnesses.'"

"The Commander of the Guard?" said Clarke, shocked.

"Shumway set it up," Bellamy said. "He gave me the gun to shoot the Chancellor."

"I wonder if the Chancellor knows that," said Clarke thoughtfully.

"I wonder what that information is worth to him," Libby said.

"Jaha will pardon you if you tell him who gave you the gun," Clarke said.

Libby squeezed Bellamy's hand. "Come back with us. Please?"

"We need you, Bellamy," Clarke said. "We never would've survived on the ground without you."

Bellamy's face was turned away, but his fingers tightened around Libby's.

"Good. It's settled." Libby withdrew her hand and stood. "Let's get going."

It took them almost an hour to get their shit together; they were all still woozy and wobbly. Clarke assembled most of what they needed in the stacked bins. Libby and Bellamy tied up bundles of guns, for easy carrying, and added bullets to the bin. Finally, Libby packed two duffle bags with blankets. Clarke and Bellamy each took a bundle of guns and a bag. Libby carried the stacked bins, which were bulky and awkward but not heavy.

Clarke led the way home. When they realized that she needed her hands to hold the map and a light, they shifted the load around: one of the bags fit in the bin, and Clarke carried the other bag slung over her shoulder. Bellamy carried both bundles of guns.

The moon was almost directly overhead when they reached the river. Clarke eyed the steep ravine with trepidation.

"Maybe we should go downstream and look for a shallower crossing," she said.

Libby set the bin down and carefully unbent her fingers. "I have a rope in my pack."

"You're a lifesaver," said Clarke. "But won't we have to leave it behind?"

"Not necessarily," Libby said. "Who's the best climber of the three of us?"

First, Libby and Bellamy lowered Clarke down on the rope with one of the lights. Then they sent down the supplies. Bellamy lowered Libby, a decision she'd fought fiercely.

"You're too small," Bellamy said. "If you tried to hold me up, I'd pull you over the cliff."

Finally, Bellamy dropped the rope down and climbed down himself. Clarke and Libby kept their flashlights pointed up to give him maximum visibility.

Once they were all safely at the bottom, they decided to rest. Libby passed around cattails and the remains of her smoked meat, and they each took a drink from the river. Libby scrubbed off her face as best she could, and rinsed the taste of blood and vomit out of her mouth. During their rest, both of the flashlight batteries died.

"That's okay," said Clarke. "We're in familiar territory now."

"Should we pee on the tree to mark it?" Libby quipped.

"Not on this side of the river," Clarke said solemnly. "The Grounders might get offended."

"Damn," said Libby. "I've been holding it in for hours."

They crossed the river carefully, though the moonlight helped. Libby slipped and fell once (in shallow water, thank God) and the bins slipped out of her grip and started to float away. Bellamy caught them before they sank, and Clarke helped Libby to her feet.

The hike from the river to the camp was mostly uphill, and Libby was getting tired. How far had they walked that day? Pretty damn far, she guessed. Finally, the glow of the fire lit up the trees.

When they entered the camp, everything was chaos. Several people were half-naked, and all looked disoriented.

"I guess they all ate those nuts," Libby said.

Discombobulated as they were, the other delinquents didn't notice Clarke, Libby, and Bellamy enter.

Miller ran out of the dropship. "The Grounder's gone!"

Frightened murmuring broke out.

"What if he brings back more Grounders?"

"They'll kill us all!"

"Or worse!"

Bellamy turned to Clarke. "Dramatic entrance?" he murmured.

Clarke nodded.

"Let the Grounders come," said Bellamy loudly. He and Clarke strode boldly into the center of the camp. Libby stayed where she was, but she put the bins down. "We've been afraid of them for too long, and why? Because of their guns and spears. Well, I'm tired of being afraid." He swung the guns off her shoulders and set them on the ground, where the firelight flickered off their shine.

"These are weapons, not toys," said Clarke authoritatively. "And we need to be prepared to give them up to the Guard when the dropships come. But for now, they'll keep us safe."

Libby whooped. The other delinquents took her cue, and cheered raggedly. Bellamy and Clarke looked pleased.

Now that everyone was sober and safe, the camp settled down quickly. Bellamy stowed the guns and bullets in the dropship, and Clarke ensured that everyone drank a lot of water before they went to sleep.

Libby found Monty and Jasper. "Are you guys okay?"

Jasper held out a stick. "Thanks to this."

"All right, then," said Libby. "Mon?"

"I think I ate a pinecone," said Monty. "Because it told me to."

"I had a heart-to-heart with a bush, so I feel you," Libby said.

"Libby!" Clarke called. "Can you distribute the blankets?"

Monty helped Libby by carrying the duffels around the camp as Libby handed out the blankets. She started with the tents furthest from the fire, and people she knew were getting the sniffles. Libby made a mental note to distribute echinacea tea, which would help ward off irritating colds.

When the duffels were empty, Libby put them in the dropship. Bellamy found her as soon as she emerged again.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," Libby said.

"You were great today," said Bellamy. "Fantastic."

"So were you." Libby waited; when Bellamy gave a compliment, there was always something else he wanted to say.

Bellamy shifted from foot to foot. "Do you want to go back to my tent?"

Libby raised both eyebrows. "I'm not interested in joining your line of conquests, Bellamy."

"No. I know. God, no." He fidgeted with the axe on his belt. "I just, um. I don't think I can sleep alone tonight."

"Oh." Libby thought about it. "Yeah, okay."

"Great." Bellamy held out his hand awkwardly. "Shall we?"

Libby's face was warm, and she couldn't quite keep the smile off her face. She took the proffered hand, and together they walked to Bellamy's tent, which was large and close to the fire as befitted his status.

Bellamy held the flap up for Libby.

"Thank you." Libby ducked inside. It wasn't any warmer than outside, but at least it wasn't damp. Bellamy had a wide bed, comparatively well-built, and a few makeshift chairs.

Libby halted in the center of the tent, uncertain what her next move was. She heard rustling behind her, and turned around. Bellamy was taking off his shirt.

"Um," Libby said articulately.

"Relax. Skin-to-skin contact is warmer. Get comfortable, Beth." Bellamy shook his head sharply. "Shit. Sorry. I forgot."

"No, it's okay," Libby said. "It's just a name."

"It's not just a name," Bellamy said. "It's your name, and I like it."

Libby blushed. "Well, use it sparingly. I don't want to confuse people."

"Will do." Bellamy unbuckled his pants. He chuckled at Libby's expression. "Jeez, I didn't peg you as a prude."

"I'm not a prude," Libby said. "I just think you're being very…forward."

"What's forward?" Bellamy said. "I like you, and I want to sleep with you. Just in the literal sense—for now, anyway." He winked.

Libby's face got even hotter. "All right, then." Without breaking eye contact, she stripped down to her bra and shorts. "Comfortable?" She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

Bellamy nodded at her feet. "You left your socks on."

"My feet get cold," said Libby with dignity.

"Yeah, well, all of me is cold right now," Bellamy said. "Let's get into bed."

Libby was too cold to stand on ceremony. She clambered in first, and pulled the blankets up to her chin. "Mm. This is cozy."

Bellamy poked her. "Scooch over."

Libby obeyed, and Bellamy slid under the blankets. She studied his profile in the dim firelight, admiring it.

Bellamy turned his head, and Libby inhaled sharply. His dark eyes were so intense. She didn't know what to say. Did she even need to say anything?

Libby opened her mouth, but Bellamy spoke first.

"I've been thinking about kissing you since our second day on the ground."

"What?"

"You were willing to do just about anything to save Jasper's life. And then you started talking about botany—"

"Shut up. Nobody finds that attractive."

"Well, I do. You're so smart, Beth. And now that I know you better, I—"

Libby raised her head and propped it up with her hand. "Yeah?"

"I really, really want to kiss you," Bellamy said. "Is that okay?"

Libby wanted to shrug indifferently, or say something flippant, but she just nodded.

Bellamy sat up partway. Moving slowly, as if he didn't want to startle her, he ran his fingers down the side of her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. Cupping the back of her head with the same hand, he pulled her towards him.

Libby closed her eyes The feather-light touch of his fingers on her cheek had given her chills. She hadn't felt like that in a long time.

Bellamy kissed her gently. His lips were warm and soft, and the warmth and softness spread through Libby's entire body. She put her hand on his arm—his taut, warm bicep supple under her fingers—and pulled him closer. Don't you dare stop, she thought.

Bellamy put his other hand on the other side of her face and deepened the kiss. He leaned back, pulling Libby on top of him. She swung her left leg across his torso and ran her eager, curious hands across his chest. He practically radiated heat. Her own personal furnace.

One of his hands was in her hair, and the other traveled down and rested in the small of her back. He ran his thumb back and forth across her bare skin, sending chills up Libby's spine.

After what seemed like a long time, Bellamy pulled away and kissed the tip of Libby's nose. "I don't want to rush this."

Libby rolled off of him. "I'm tired, anyway." She couldn't stop smiling.

"Hey, what are you doing all the way over there?" Bellamy tugged on her arm.

Libby rolled back into him and put her head on his chest. Bellamy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and fiddled with the tail of her braid.

"I like what you did with your hair," he said.

"Thanks. I got tired of having it in my face."

Bellamy held the braid between his fingers and ran the tip up and down Libby's arm.

"Stop!" Libby squirmed.

"Are you ticklish?"

"Yes, and if you try anything I'll decapitate you," Libby said.

"I saw you bite a guy's ear off a few hours ago," Bellamy said. "Point taken." He didn't stop playing with her hair, though.

Libby snuggled up against him. "You're nice and warm."

"I've been called 'hot,' but that's a new one," Bellamy said.

Libby hummed sleepily.

"So when did it start, for you? The—this?"

"I'm definitely attracted to you because of your way with words." Libby wrapped her arm around him and squeezed to take away the sting.

"I'm serious." He took her hand and twined his fingers through hers.

"I know." Libby thought. "Probably when you brought me the fossil. That's one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever gotten."

"I'm really glad you like it," Bellamy said.

"I couldn't figure out why you didn't give it to Octavia. I guess I know now."

Bellamy chuckled; Libby felt it as well as heard it. Her ear was pressed into his chest, and she could hear his heartbeat, too. "Glad you figured it out."

"I didn't," Libby said. "You had to come right out and tell me. I'm not great at picking up signals."

"I wasn't really sending 'signals,'" Bellamy said. "I didn't want you to think I was trying to seduce you or something."

"Don't you want to seduce me?" Libby pretended to be offended.

Bellamy squeezed her shoulders. "You know I do." Just the way he says it, Libby thought. I'm already there. "But I wanted it to be more than sex."

"Well, I appreciate that," Libby said. "I was starting to think you didn't respect women."

"You've met Octavia," Bellamy said. "How could I not?"

Libby snorted.

For a while they said nothing. Their combined body heat made the space under the blankets comfortably warm. Bellamy traced circles on Libby's arm with his finger, and kissed the top of her head.

"Good night, Beth," he said.

Libby fell asleep smiling.


	16. Chapter 15

Libby woke up warm for the first time in months. The Skybox on the Ark wasn't well heated; juvenile prisoners weren't a priority for the Council. Come to think of it, nowhere on the Ark was that warm. Space was cold.

Libby lifted her chin and looked at the source of her warmth: Bellamy Blake, sound asleep. The tension on his forehead was smoothed out, and his face looked almost boyish in sleep. The pale morning light illuminated the freckles dusting his nose.

Libby sighed contentedly. For a while she lay still, listening to the birds and Bellamy's breathing. When she heard people begin to move around outside, she sat up. Moving slowly and carefully, so as not to wake Bellamy, Libby climbed out of bed and padded across the tent in her sock feet. She donned her pants, tank top, shirt, and jacket, then rebraided her hair. Miraculously, Bellamy slept through it all.

He must be really tired, Libby thought. I'll let him sleep as long as I can. She stepped into her boots, laced them, and crawled out of the tent.

She didn't think that anybody notice her emerge, and she was glad; she didn't want her sleeping arrangements to become a source of gossip around the camp. She did a circle of the camp to check on the watchmen. Monroe was on gate duty.

"Hey, Libby, what's up?"

"Hey, Monroe. Where's your partner?"

"Sterling? He's peeing," Monroe said. "He figured since it was daylight it didn't matter if only one of us was watching."

"I won't tell Bellamy," Libby said wryly, "but don't let it happen again."

Monroe saluted mockingly. "Yes ma'am."

The other watchmen were in place, though sleepy-looking. Libby promised to relieve them soon.

Next, she went to the fire, which was almost out. With Fox's help, Libby got the fire blazing. Libby started boiling water for tea, and skewered a trio of rabbits over the fire. When the water was hot, she added echinacea and mint.

The delinquents came to the fire in knots of five or six for breakfast. Many of them stayed by the fire to warm up; the morning was brisk. At least it hadn't frosted.

Jasper showed up after a while. "Where'd you go?" He voraciously tore into a rabbit leg. "Hot damn, this is good."

"Spent the night with a friend," Libby said. "I thought our tent was crowded."

"It is kind of small," Jasper said, "but I thought we'd stay warmer sleeping close together."

"You're probably right," Libby said.

"Those blankets are great," Jasper said. "Guess your day trip went well?"

"Pretty well," said Libby mildly. "How's your head? You guys had a rough day yesterday."

"I'm okay," said Jasper. "No worse than a normal hangover. Monty's got indigestion."

"Indigestion?"

"We think he ate some…weird stuff yesterday," Jasper said.

Libby made a face. "Poor Monty. I'll bring him some tea later."

A few minutes later, Clarke came to the fire. "Hey. Have you seen Bellamy? We'll be in range for the Ark soon."

"He's going to talk to Jaha?"

"He came back with us," said Clarke. "As far as I'm concerned, that means he will."

"I agree," Libby said. "I'll keep an eye out for him, send him your way."

When Clarke left, Libby found a replacement server and made a beeline for Bellamy's tent. He was still asleep; in fact, Libby didn't think he'd changed position since she left.

Libby sat on the edge of the bed. "Bellamy."

No reply.

Tentatively, Libby reached out and touched his warm, muscular shoulder.

Bellamy started awake.

Libby threw her hands up. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!"

"No, it's fine." Bellamy's voice was even huskier than usual. "G'morning."

"Good morning." Libby leaned down and kissed him. "I know this isn't exactly a pleasant wake-up call, but Clarke's waiting for you. It's time to talk to Jaha."

Bellamy groaned and buried his face in the pillow. "Dahavtew?"

"Yes, you have to." Jasper had tried to get out of conversations with a pillow many times. "Put your pants on. And a shirt. This is the Chancellor we're talking about."

Bellamy rolled over and sat up. "Are you sure this will work?"

"No," Libby said, "but Clarke seems pretty sure. I trust Clarke. Don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so let's go."

"I want you there," Bellamy said.

"There are only two headsets."

"Yeah, but you can at least sit in the room. Offer moral support. When I have to look away from Jaha, I want to look at you."

Libby looked down, trying to hide her blush. "Okay, then."

She waited on the bed while Bellamy dressed. Not that watching Bellamy dress was a huge imposition or anything.

"Is the entire Guard as ripped as you are?"

"I think I like you better when you're not trying to flirt with me." Bellamy zipped his jacket. "Let's go, Beth."

"Remember: that's not a name for common use."

"Duly noted." Bellamy stuck his axe in his belt and held the tent flap open for Libby. "After you, Milady."

This time, people definitely saw Libby come out of Bellamy's tent. It was broad daylight, and they'd already seen Libby, so maybe they wouldn't think twice about it.

Bellamy and Libby went to the radio tent. Clarke was standing outside.

"You're late," said Clarke.

"My alarm didn't go off," said Bellamy.

"Mind if I sit inside with you?" Libby asked. "I don't want to wait outside for news."

Clarke shrugged, then turned and went inside.

Libby sat out of the camera's view as Bellamy and Clarke put on the headsets. Clarke turned on the radio and started fidgeting with the signal.

"Come in, Ark Station."

Bellamy glanced at Libby and licked his lips nervously. Libby nodded encouragingly.

"This is Clarke Griffin, do you copy?" There was a pause. "Chancellor Jaha. We have an appointment."

Libby wished for something to fidget with. She settled for the zipper on her jacket. She made up a little song. Zip, zip, zip-zip-zip…

"Before you do," said Clarke, "I have something I'd like to say."

Libby stopped zipping and sat up straighter. Clarke must be talking to the Chancellor.

"When you sent us down here, you sent us to die." Clarke stated this flatly, with no trace of understanding or forgiveness. "But miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him. Because of Bellamy. He's one of us, and he deserves to have his crimes pardoned, just like the rest of us."

The Chancellor said something.

"It is," said Bellamy, "if you want to know who on the Ark wants you dead."

There was a tense pause. After a moment, Bellamy and Clarke relaxed.

"He said yes?" said Libby. "What did he say? Guys?"

"Thank you, sir," Bellamy said.

"I want verbal confirmation!" said Libby.

Bellamy covered his microphone. "He's pardoned me, all right? Calm down."

Libby sighed in relief. "Thank God."

Bellamy reached for Libby's hand and squeezed it briefly. Libby ran her thumb across his knuckles.

"Libby's here with us," Clarke said, in response to something the Chancellor said. "Bellamy and Libby were an essential part of the depot scouting mission." Pause. "No, it won't be habitable. And we found very few useful supplies."

That wasn't quite true, Libby thought, but maybe it was better if the Ark didn't know that the juvenile delinquents had guns.

"Commander Shumway gave me the gun," Bellamy said. "He offered me a place on the dropship." Pause. "He knew I would do anything for my sister, and he took advantage of that."

There was a longer pause.

"I don't know," Bellamy said. "I doubt he was acting independently, but of course that's speculation."

"You have to know that some of your decisions aren't very popular," Clarke said.

The Chancellor said something.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be more help," Clarke said. "Thanks for your time. Who's first on the family call list today?" Pause. "Max? I'll find him."

Clarke and Bellamy removed their headsets.

"I think Max is on wall duty," Libby said. "We should relieve them."

Clarke looked pointedly at Bellamy and Libby's linked hands.

"Shut up," Libby said.

"I was right, though," said Clarke.

Bellamy looked from Libby to Clarke, confused. "I'm missing something."

"Female telepathy." Libby gave his hand a squeeze and released it. "C'mon. We've got work to do."

They filed out of the tent.

"I'll get Max, and change the guard," said Bellamy, and left.

"What are your plans for today?" Clarke asked.

Libby shrugged. "Same as usual, I guess. Stockpile food. We should think really hard about how to keep everybody warm, since the depot isn't an option."

"I know," said Clarke grimly.

"I asked Kane to look up tanning techniques, and Monroe had some ideas about cabins," Libby said. "Do you think Raven could build a heating system for the dropship, at least? We could all sleep in there if we absolutely had to."

"Maybe," said Clarke. "I'll talk to her. If you take a crew out, let somebody know. Me, Bellamy, or Miller."

"How are your medicinal stocks?" Libby asked.

Clarke sighed. "Good, I guess, but it can't hurt to get more of everything."

"I put echinacea in the tea this morning, so hopefully we won't have to deal with too many colds," Libby said.

Libby went to the fire for a cup of hot tea, then to Jasper and Monty's tent. Monty lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, champ," Libby said. "I brought you tea to calm your stomach."

"You're a miracle-worker." Monty sat up and took the cup. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Libby said. "I only had, like, two nuts, and I threw them up when I figured out what was happening."

"Wow." Monty shook his head. "I'm amazed you were still that lucid."

"Like I said, I didn't have many. How do you like your new blanket?"

"It's great," said Monty. "Perks of being BFFs with the Quartermaster, right?"

"Right."

Monty peered into Libby's face. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Libs. I know you. You haven't looked this happy since the last time we smoked. What's up?"

Libby blushed. "Nothing."

"I know that face! That's your boy face!" Monty nudged her. "Is it Sterling? I've seen him eyeing you."

Libby laughed. "Sterling? Seriously? That's who you see me with?"

"You're too smart to chase people around," Monty said. "You've always dated whoever was interested in you. Not in a desperate way," he added hastily.

"I guess you're right about that," Libby said thoughtfully.

"That was definitely true with Orwell," said Monty. "He was way beneath you."

"Well, now I'm way beneath him," Libby said. "'Cause I'm on the ground, and he's in space. Get it?"

Monty chuckled. "That was terrible."

"You laughed, though."

"You didn't come home last night," Monty said.

Dammit, he's insatiable, Libby thought.

"You spent the night with him, didn't you. Whoever 'him' is."

"Whoever 'he' is."

"Stop trying to change the subject." Monty stared her down. "It's not Miller, is it? I'm pretty sure you're not his type."

"I'm not going to tell you, Monty," Libby said. "Okay? Not yet, anyway. It's…new."

"Fine." Monty lay back down. "Dax?"

Libby stiffened. "No. Not Dax."

"Max? Myles? Josh?"

"Monty, stop, please?"

"Fine," said Monty. "But promise you'll tell me eventually. You know I live vicariously through you."

"That's gross. But I promise." Libby held out her pinky, and Monty twisted his around it. They'd been making pinky promises since the fourth grade. "Drink all of that tea, and come outside whenever you feel up to it."

"Yes, Mother."

When Libby returned to the fire, the food was all but gone. Libby piled the leftovers on a plate and set it by the fire, so people could snack during the day as needed. There was still tea in the pot, so Libby left it where it was.

"You busy?" It was Bellamy.

"No."

"I was thinking of going fishing."

"What with? We don't have any poles."

"Let me rephrase that," Bellamy said. "I want to go after that snake thing that bit you, our first day on the ground."

"Oh." Libby thought. "You'd probably need something bigger than a fishing pole, then."

"That's what I was thinking. You in?"

"You know I am," said Libby. "We'll need spears, knives, and maybe some kind of net. Who's going besides us?"

"I thought maybe the crew that went out the first day," Bellamy said.

"Okay, so Clarke, Finn, Jasper, Monty, and Octavia. Monty's still sick from yesterday."

"I'll find Finn and Clarke," said Bellamy. "You get Jasper and Octavia."

Fifteen minutes later, they assembled at the gate. Clarke had opted to stay behind, so that one of the unofficial leaders was still in camp, and Libby had snagged Harper, too. She thought they might need more pairs of hands.

Finn and Jasper led the way to the river. Bellamy carried the net, so Libby carried his spear as well as her own. Octavia and Harper walked behind them. Octavia hadn't said a word to Bellamy.

By noon, they'd reached the exact spot on the river where Octavia and Libby had gone swimming. Libby insisted that they all rest for a minute and drink some water.

"It's pretty here," Bellamy said. "I see why you wanted to go swimming."

"Once that thing's dead, we can," Libby said. "Okay, so we lure it into the shallows, ensnare it in the net, and then stab it to death."

"You make it sound so simple," said Harper.

"It is simple," Libby said. "It'll just be tough to execute."

Bellamy chuckled.

"So how do we draw its attention?" said Jasper. "Throw rocks in the water? That worked before."

"We could try it," said Libby, "but I think it might be quicker if somebody went in."

"You mean like bait?" said Octavia.

"You're not doing it," Bellamy said.

"Why not?" said Libby. "It's attacked me before."

"What, so you think it'll recognize your legs or something?" Bellamy said. "It's too dangerous. We're using Jasper's idea."

"Fine," said Libby. "But if that doesn't work—"

"You're still staying on land with the rest of us."

"We'll have to go in the water to kill it," Libby said.

"You get my point," said Bellamy. "We are not using you—or anyone—as bait."

"Fine," said Libby. "Let's throw some rocks."

Harper was put in charge of the rocks. Finn and Bellamy stretched the net out between them. Libby, Jasper, and Octavia crouched on the bank with spears.

With a grunt of effort, Harper rolled a boulder the size of Libby's head down the hill and into the river. It made a satisfying splash. Libby watched the ripples carefully.

"How long should we wait?" Finn said quietly after several minutes.

"Try another one, Harper," Bellamy said.

This time, Harper stood directly behind them and lobbed a small boulder over their heads. It landed almost midstream.

They waited.

As the disturbance from the rock calmed, a small wave approached from downstream. The monster was coming to investigate.

"There!" said Octavia.

"It's too far out," said Finn.

"So let's lure it closer to shore." Libby whacked the water with her spear, making another splash. The wave changed direction slightly.

"Here it comes," Finn said.

The monster came to a stop five or six feet from shore and nosed through the gravel.

"That's as close as it'll get," Libby said.

"You're right," Bellamy said grimly. He and Finn took two steps into the water and tossed the net. The monster saw the movement and started to swim away, but the net landed on its tail and weighed it down.

"Go!" Octavia charged into the water, sending spray flying, and thrust her spear into the monster's side. Libby was right on her heels.

Once everyone had gotten their spear into the fish, they dragged it toward the shore using the spears as handholds. When the water got shallow enough that the thing's head was visible, Bellamy stabbed it through the eye. It took several minutes for the thrashing to subside, leaving them all thoroughly soaked.

"Let's get it out of the water, in case its buddies come to investigate," Finn said.

They hauled the enormous, dripping corpse out of the water.

"It's bigger than I remember," Libby said.

"You didn't get a good look at it," Jasper said.

"To be fair, its teeth were in my leg."

To carry it back to camp, they wrapped it in the net. Bellamy, Finn, Jasper, and Harper each took a corner of the net. Libby led the way, and Octavia provided a rearguard.

Derek was keeping watch at the gate. "Whoa! What the hell is that thing?"

"Dinner," said Bellamy.

They carried it to the fire, and Libby got a good look at it for the first time. It wasn't a snake; it was a gigantic fish. She wondered if it was supposed to be this big, or if radiation had mutated it. At least it only had one head.

Butchering and cooking the fish kept Libby busy until well after sunset. Luckily, she had many willing helpers. There was enough meat for everyone to eat their fill.

"It's nice to have regular meals again," Edith said as she returned her plate. "Thanks, Libby."

Libby made sure that everyone put their bones in a pile. We'll have to start composting somewhere, she thought. Will bones compost? Well, we should start a trash pile anyway. Well away from camp. Maybe by the latrine trench.

As the night grew colder, smaller fires were lit throughout the camp. Many people moved their tents so that there was a small cluster around each fire. At Libby's suggestion, leaves and fern fronds were piled around the base of each tent, to keep drafts out. There were blankets from the depot and made from dropship insulation.

This is all well and good, Libby thought, but it won't keep us from freezing to death once winter really comes.

Libby banked the main fire so that it wouldn't go out. There were people keeping watch on the walls, with instructions to keep an eye on the fires, too. Everything was in order, but still Libby lingered by the fire. She wasn't sure where she should sleep: in her tent with Monty and Jasper, or in Bellamy's bed. She didn't want him to think she was rejecting him, but she also didn't want to invite herself in.

Bellamy solved this dilemma for her by sneaking up behind her and putting his arms around her waist. Libby started when he pressed his lips to her temple.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello." Bellamy's voice reverberated through his chest and into Libby's back. It was a pleasant feeling. "Ready for bed?"

As an answer, Libby rotated in Bellamy's embrace and kissed him. She placed one hand on his chest and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Bellamy's arms tightened around her waist, and he all but lifted Libby off the ground.

"Wait." Libby pulled away. "People will see."

"Does that bother you?"

"I don't want to be a topic of gossip," Libby said.

"Fair enough," said Bellamy. "Should we, ah, take this to the bedroom, then?"

"Only if I get to be the little spoon," Libby said.

Bellamy chuckled. "It's a deal."

 **A/N:** **Hihihi! I am so sorry that I didn't post anything last week. My life is utter madness right now; I barely got around to writing this chapter. Thank you all so much for reading. Please keep commenting; I love hearing from you. Have a great week! Best, ST.**


	17. Flashback

In the months following the disastrous masquerade ball, Bellamy went through life in a painful haze. He was lucky they hadn't floated him, too; he knew that, cognitively, but a part of him would rather be sucked dry by space than go through the motions on the Ark, where everyone knew who he was. Eyes and whispers followed him everywhere. He took to eating at odd hours, when there were as few people in the mess hall as there would ever be.

It was amazing, really, that the Council had let him live. But several people had stood as character witnesses, to Bellamy's surprise, and the Council had deemed him useful to humanity and allowed him to live. He still couldn't get past the character witnesses. He hadn't realized that there were people on the Ark who cared that much about him, or thought they knew him that well. Nobody knew him, really, except Octavia. And they wouldn't let him see her. He'd tried every day for almost a month, and then consciously reduced his visits to once a week. He didn't like the pitying looks the guards gave him, if they bothered to look at him at all. They all knew him, and they felt uncomfortable around him. To think that one of their own had committed—no, been accomplice to, that was the official law term—such a crime was unthinkable.

It was unthinkable to most people, Bellamy was discovering. The question drifted behind him like a comet's tail, kept alive by rumors and his own inner turmoil: Why? Why had Aurora Blake, an otherwise law-abiding woman, had a second child? It wasn't as if contraceptives weren't available. All girls had them implanted after the first menstruation. (At his trial, Bellamy had reminded the Council that Octavia had no such implant, and they promised to take immediate steps to ensure her health. He had to be content with that.) So why had Aurora done it? Bellamy didn't know the answer, and they'd floated his mother before the question had time to fully form in his mind. It was strange that he'd never wondered before. Maybe, in his child's mind, he had assumed that everybody had a secret sibling, that many people had broken the law. Everyone had an Octavia. It wasn't until Octavia was gone that he realized how fortunate he'd been.

The Council demoted him to janitor. There weren't really any shitty jobs on the Ark, or they probably would have given him that job. Being a janitor wasn't so bad, except that it ensured that everyone on the Ark would see him almost daily, and be reminded of what he was: a brother. It was a title he'd always held with pride, but now it was a brand, marking him apart. Brother. Orphan. Janitor. The name Bellamy was losing meaning.

Seven months into his new, empty life, Bellamy was given a different set of shifts. He had no idea why, and didn't really care. The new routine took him to less populated areas of the Ark, for which he was thankful. Maybe someone with power had taken pity on him, but he doubted it.

One of his new duties was maintaining the compost piles in the greenhouse. That changed his mind about someone taking pity on him: compost was disgusting. It was heavy work, too, overturning the shit with a shovel. He welcomed the ache in his shoulders.

He pretty much ignored the greenhouse employees, and they never spoke to him. They moved quietly among the plants, testing and prodding and occasionally just stroking the leaves in an almost reverent gesture. Bellamy couldn't blame them; the greenhouse probably bore the strongest resemblance to Earth out of anywhere on the Ark. The smell was intoxicating. If colors had smells, Bellamy thought, green would smell like the greenhouse. And brown would smell like the compost.

One day, as Bellamy was methodically shoveling the compost in Greenhouse A into a new bin, mixing and turning the stuff as he did so, one of the greenhouse workers approached him. Bellamy could feel someone's presence off his left shoulder, but he refused to acknowledge them. He was a pariah; it wasn't his place to socialize.

The person cleared their throat politely.

Bellamy ignored them.

"Excuse me." It was a girl's voice, light and lilting. Bellamy envisioned someone who looked like the flowers she worked with, slender and delicate. He set down the shovel, stretched his back, and turned around.

"What?"

The girl didn't look at all like a flower. She was short and sturdy, almost stocky. Her black hair was pulled into a topknot, though a few straggling wisps had escaped. Her face was pink and blotchy with exertion, and there was dirt on her nose.

"I need compost," she said.

Bellamy gestured magnanimously to the pile. "Help yourself."

"Thank you." She brushed past him and started scooping compost into a pail. "You're new," she said conversationally.

"Yeah," was all Bellamy could think to say. The art of conversation had been lost to him for seven months.

"You never introduced yourself."

"Neither did any of you," said Bellamy defensively.

"Fair enough." Her pail full, the girl hoisted it up and balanced it on one hip. "I guess there's no real reason to socialize with your coworkers." She stared at him for a moment. "Hey, wait. I know you."

Bellamy squirmed inside his janitor's coverall. "I don't think so."

But he suddenly recognized her, too. They'd spoken briefly at the masquerade, minutes before the solar flare alert that had exposed Octavia. Her hair had been down then, and it had been dark, he excused himself.

"No, I do," the girl said. "I used to see you in the Archives a lot."

Bellamy resisted the urge to sigh with relief. She didn't connect him with the masquerade, with the worst night of his life. She probably knew of him, but she didn't match his name with his face. The anonymity was refreshing.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I spent a lot of time there when I was younger."

"Me, too," she said. "My dad worked there."

Bellamy didn't comment on the past tense. Most people had lost at least one parent. He wondered if her dad had been floated, but he didn't ask.

"I'd see you in the mythology." The girl laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, stalker alert. I just—you were there a lot, and I spent all my free time there, so—"

"No, it's fine. Sorry I don't remember you." Not from the Archives, anyway.

She waved that away. "It's fine. I was a kid."

"And what are you now?" Bellamy asked, almost teasingly.

The girl drew herself up to her full height. "Five months short of Greenhouse Assistant, thank you very much."

He remembered that, from their conversation at the masquerade. Her job was secure, then. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. I'm excited." She grinned, and her nose crinkled up. The gesture dislodged some of the dirt.

The speakers buzzed, and someone in the command center announced the date, time, and internal temperature.

"Shit, is it already four?" Bellamy said. "I have to get going."

"Sure. Sorry to keep you," she said.

"You didn't. I mean, it wasn't—it's fine."

"I'll see you around," she said.

"See you."

Bellamy darted away, but for the rest of the day he thought about her. The first real conversation he'd had in months—but only because she didn't know who he was. Well, she did. But not in the way that mattered.

He looked forward to composting the next day, and had a few talking points prepared: his favorite myths, did she read mythology, what were her favorite plants.

But he didn't see her. Maybe her shifts got moved, he thought. I'll see her around.

Four days later, he finally summoned up the courage to ask the greenhouse director about her.

"There's a girl who works here? About this high?" Bellamy held his hand out just below his shoulder. "Dark hair?"

Mr. Green shook his head ruefully. "She was arrested."

"What?" Five months, Bellamy thought. She'll be eighteen in five months.

"With my son and his best friend. Apparently they were distributing cannabis."

That did not fit with Bellamy's idea of the girl, whose name he still didn't know. "I'm sorry," he said. "About your son."

Mr. Green shrugged with forced nonchalance. "He's a smart kid. Engineering apprentice. They'll pardon him; they don't have an overabundance of engineers."

"I'm sure they will," Bellamy said encouragingly.

"Her chances are good, too," Mr. Green said. "We really need her. The entire staff is going to testify for her."

"That's good," said Bellamy. "I just, um, needed to ask her something."

"Well, can I help?"

"I just wanted to check that, uh, you guys had enough compost," Bellamy said.

"Yes. You've done very well, Janitor Blake." Mr. Green's eyes flicked to Bellamy's nametag, then back up to his face. Bellamy thought he could see the name register with the botanist.

"Call me Bellamy," he said.

Mr. Green smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bellamy."

Five months later, she limped into a camp on the ground, and her voice caught when she told him that Jasper had been taken. It was then that Bellamy realized that, of all the people in space or on the ground, Elizabeth Jordan might be the only person who knew what it was like to lose a sibling.

 **A/N: Has it really been almost a month? That's embarrassing. I've been hella busy, and my creative energies got diverted by some other things, but I have every intention of finishing this story through Season One, and writing a sequel for Season Two. I'm already thinking ahead about some things. I realize that these flashbacks leave kind of a plot hole, since Libby and Bellamy officially meet in Chapter 3, but I could argue that they had only spoken twice before that, and never exchanged names, so I think the hole goes away if you squint. Anyway, I wanted to get inside Bellamy's head again. It's a dark place, which is the best place to be a writer, in my opinion. I also have a lot of unanswered questions about Aurora Blake. Like…how did she have a second kid? (They do mention inserted contraceptive devices on the show) And why? There's literally no logic behind it, and it raises some interesting questions about Aurora's character and Ark culture. Anyway. That's all for now. I *promise* I will update again soon. There's a small gap in the timeline between Day Trip and Unity Day, and I'm trying to figure out how I want to utilize it for Character Development. Phew, long note. Again: major apologies for going dark. If you're still with me at this point in time, you're amazing and I love you. Best, ST.**


	18. Chapter 16

By noon the next day, the entire camp knew that Libby and Bellamy were sleeping together. Libby was annoyed—she hated being the topic of gossip—but resigned. She'd been indiscreet. Still, it would've been nice to figure out her relationship with Bellamy without eighty-odd people breathing down her neck.

Libby figured out that people knew when Bellamy placed his hand on her back during gun practice and she heard giggling. Jones and Connor nudged each other. Mel was openly staring. Libby stepped away from Bellamy, and the noise subsided. "I already know how to do this," she said. "Why don't we each teach a few people."

"Sure," Bellamy said. His face was expressionless, but his shoulders were slightly hunched.

He noticed it, too. He's observant, Libby thought admiringly. She quickly turned away, before people thought that she was gawking. "Jones, c'mere."

Immediately Jones was all business, which Libby appreciated. She showed him how to hold the gun, and where the magazine was, and then she let him fire three practice shots. He hit the center of the target on his third try.

"That's really good," Libby said. "Now let me see you reload it for Connor."

People filtered in and out of the practice area all day. By late afternoon, Libby and Bellamy had agreed on a short list of people who could be trusted with a gun on watch. Bellamy would divide the watch shifts accordingly.

Libby went to the fire to check on dinner. She was pleasantly surprised to find Fox, Monroe, and Sterling already working on it.

"What're we having?" Libby flopped down in a chair by the fire.

"Boar stew," said Monroe. "And before you ask: no, we didn't use all the meat. About half of it went to the storehouse."

"I'm so proud of you." Libby pretended to get emotional, which she knew would irritate Monroe.

"I went back to the place with the wild carrots and found onions, too," Fox said.

"That's really great, guys," Libby said. "I appreciate the initiative."

"Thanks, Mom," said Sterling mockingly.

Monroe rolled her eyes.

Harper came up to the fire, carrying three squirrels by their tails. "Snares got these today. Want them now, or later?"

"We'll skin and smoke 'em," Libby said.

"Great," said Harper. "Would you help me skin them?"

Harper knows how to skin squirrels, Libby thought. Oh—she wants to talk. "Sure," she said. "Fox, you all set here?"

"Yeah."

By the smokehouse, Miller had built a sturdy table on which to skin and butcher kills. Harper and Libby each took a knife, and got to work.

"So what's up?" Libby said.

"You tell me!" said Harper. "You and Bellamy? Since when?"

Libby smiled; it was like half a dozen conversations they'd had on the Ark. "Since, like, two days ago. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want people to gossip."

Harper snorted. "Well, it's too late for that. Myles saw y'all snogging by the campfire the other night. He told everyone."

Libby flushed. "Everyone?"

"Knowing Myles, everybody on the Ark knows, too," said Harper. "And don't apologize; I get it. We are all way too up in each other's shit. But I had no idea you were even into Bellamy!"

"C'mon, you knew," Libby said. "I agreed that he was hot, and I tried to flirt with him at the masquerade last year."

"Oh my God, that _was_ him, wasn't it? Wow. That feels so long ago."

"It does."

Harper put down her knife and ripped the squirrel's hide away from its spine. "Okay, so how did it happen?"

"I'm not sure," Libby admitted. "I mean, we talked a lot, I guess. We trust each other. He has good ideas, and he listens to mine." Libby thought. "I guess…? I don't know. The day we went out and got the guns, he was going to run away."

"What? Why?"

Libby shook her head to indicate she wouldn't say. "Clarke and I both tried to talk him out of it. And then, something happened, and we almost died, and then he told me that he didn't want to sleep alone. It wasn't like a come-on or anything; it was just, like, a basic human need. And I said yes."

"Wait, so you didn't sleep with him?"

"In the figurative sense, no," Libby said.

"Huh." Harper looked thoughtful. "Do you want to?"

Libby glanced around; there was no one nearby. "Of course I want to," she said quietly.

Harper grinned.

They finished butchering the squirrels, and hung the chunks of meat up inside the smokehouse. The fire was burning well, but Libby added a few more green logs to be safe.

"So what's going on with you?" Libby asked as they washed their hands.

Harper shrugged. "Hoping the Grounders don't kill me. Awkward conversations with Jasper. You know."

"You know he's really hung up on Octavia," Libby said.

Harper made a face. "I know. And I keep telling myself that I don't care. And I don't, really. It's just…Jasper, you know? I always thought: you and Terence, me and Jasper."

"Terence? Really?" He'd always been a part of their group, and Libby liked him—they shared an interest in history—but she'd never thought of him like that.

"I mean, not now, obviously," Harper said. "Or, not then. But, like, in a few years."

"Hm," Libby said. "Where did Monty fit into this hypothetical scenario?"

Harper laughed. "I don't know. It was just a dumb idea that I had. It's irrelevant now."

"If things hadn't happened the way they did, you might've been right," Libby said.

When they returned to the fire, Sterling was dishing up the dinner. Harper and Libby got in line; Monty and Jasper joined them moments later. Libby pretended not to notice her three friends trading significant glances.

Finally, Jasper cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted: "It's Libby's eighteenth birthday! Everybody sing!"

"Nobody sing!" Libby yelled, but it was too late.

"One, two, three!" Jasper waved his arms like and old-fashioned conductor, and ninety voices belted out:

"Your journey isn't over, you lived another year! You sinned but weren't floated, and so we give a cheer!"

It was a variation on the usual birthday song, sung only in the Skybox on a delinquent's release. Libby wasn't sure what happened if the kid got floated; it hadn't happened in her five months in the Skybox.

Everyone rushed Libby when the song was over, hugging her or punching her or ruffling her hair.

"You're officially living on borrowed time!" Mel shouted.

"You gotta behave now!" said Connor.

When they finally let her go, Sterling made a great show of presenting her with her dinner plate, which was garnished with a three-petaled trillium flower. Libby accepted with equal decorum, laughing the whole time.

She was given a seat of honor by the fire, and people brought her little things throughout the meal. Several people had gone out and collected medicinal herbs; Jones presented her with a bundle of firewood; Edith had woven a flower crown; and Jasper and Monty appeared bearing a cask between them.

"Monty's finest!" Jasper declared loudly. "Everybody drink up!"

There was only enough for everyone to have one drink, but that was enough. Libby thought that Monty had probably planned it that way. Unity Day was tomorrow, anyway. If Libby knew Monty at all, there would be more alcohol for that party.

Libby was deeply moved by their joy. They were celebrating her life, and the fact that it would not end. In the Skybox, they were constantly reassuring each other, but the reality of a lifted sentence was cause for elation anyway. There was always doubt. And, really, they were celebrating for all of them. None of them would be floated. Their crimes were pardoned. They were on the ground, and they were free.

Sometime around midnight (Libby guessed by the moon), the party broke up. Luckily, the people scheduled to go on watch either hadn't drunk or were already sobered up. Monroe banked the fire while Sterling and Fox cleaned the pot.

"Great work tonight, guys," Libby said to them. "Seriously."

"We expect you to start doing it all yourself again tomorrow," Sterling said. "Since it won't be your birthday tomorrow."

Libby laughed. "Yeah, but as a legal adult I have jurisdiction over you."

"Damn," said Monroe. "So much for the carefree lifestyle we've come to expect on the ground."

Fox giggled.

Monty sat down next to Libby. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

"I didn't get you anything," Monty said.

"I didn't expect anything," Libby said. "Really."

"I know, but still," Monty said. "We always get each other gifts. And then Jasper tries to take partial credit."

"True." Libby chuckled.

"If Jasper asks, I got you something really awesome," Monty said.

Libby laughed. She'd laughed so much that day: a good birthday. "Honestly, the chessboard you made last year is worth like three birthdays." It was made of scrap parts from Aunt Beru's workshop; all of the pawns were solitary nuts of varying sizes, rusted to the point of uselessness. Libby and Monty had played many games of chess on it. Monty only won about half the time.

"Do you think they'd bring it down?" Monty said. "When they come?"

"I don't know," Libby said. "I'll ask Aunt Beru next time I talk to her. I'm sure she'll bring it if she can."

"Yeah."

For a while they sat in companionable silence, lit in warm yellows and reds from the fire. The rest of the camp had more or less gone to bed.

When Libby caught herself nodding off, she said, "I guess I'll go to bed."

"Where?"

"Bellamy's tent." Libby hadn't seen Bellamy in several hours, but the previous night had convinced her that he wanted her there.

"See you tomorrow, then."

"Good night."

Libby tried to enter Bellamy's tent as quietly as possible, in case he was asleep. He wasn't; he was fiddling with his axe.

"I think the head's coming loose," he said when Libby came in. "But I don't know how to fix it."

"Wire," Libby said. "Or, if you're feeling adventurous, we could try welding it. I bet Raven knows how."

"Maybe." Bellamy put the axe aside and opened his arms. "C'mere."

Libby sat on his knee and leaned into his chest, and Bellamy wrapped his arms around her. Libby hummed contentedly. Bellamy put his chin on Libby's head. Neither of them moved for some time.

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday," Bellamy said.

Libby raised her head to look him in the face. "I'm sorry."

"I would've, I don't know. Done _something_."

"It's fine, really. I don't really like my birthday."

"Why not?"

For a moment Libby was quiet. "The day after my eighth birthday—Unity Day—I found out that my mom wasn't taking her meds, that she was selling them instead. Two days later, they arrested her and floated her. They didn't let me say goodbye."

Bellamy's arms tightened. "I'm so sorry, Beth."

Libby kissed him, lightly and gently. "It's okay," she said.

"They floated my mom, too," Bellamy said.

"I know." She kissed him again. "That must've been hard."

"It was." Bellamy placed one hand on her cheek and pulled her in, running his thumb along her jawline. Libby relaxed into the kiss, relishing the feeling of being held. When Bellamy pulled away, he said, "But now I'm feeling strangely optimistic."

"Me, too," said Libby softly.

Bellamy lay back on the bed with Libby on top of him. His eyes never left her face. In answer to his unspoken question, Libby sat up and took off her jacket, then her shirt. She kicked her boots off the edge of the bed, and shimmied out of her pants. Mostly naked, she lay back down next to Bellamy. He leaned over her and kissed her. One of his hands slid down her ribcage and rested in the curve of her waist.

Libby responded to the kiss eagerly. She traced the muscles of Bellamy's chest and stomach, evident even underneath his shirt, with her fingers. When she tugged on the hem of his shirt, he obligingly let go of her for a moment to take it off, then immediately dove back in and kissed her fiercely. His tongue flicked lightly over her lips; Libby responded in kind, leading to a short tongue joust that left them both giggling. Bellamy's laugh rumbled deep in his chest, but it was light and happy, too. The combination of sounds and sensations warmed Libby all over. She felt like she was in a hot bath, or something that matched the descriptions of hot baths she'd read in books.

Bellamy kissed her mouth, her chin, her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. Libby entangled her fingers in his curls and sighed happily. After a while, he found his way back to her mouth again. Libby used her grip on his hair to pull him in, and kissed him deeply and earnestly. She wanted him to know how she felt, how fiercely joyful she was in that moment. She was alive; she was on the ground; she was with him. She hadn't known one person could make her feel so happy.

The kissing slowly subsided into cuddling, and Bellamy pulled one of the bright orange depot blankets over them. Libby tucked her head into the hollow between Bellamy's shoulder and his neck, and drew idle circles on his chest with one finger.

"What's wrong?" Bellamy said.

"Absolutely nothing," Libby said, surprised.

"Your face is wet."

"Is it?" Libby raised one hand to her cheek, and it was indeed damp. "That's weird."

Bellamy pulled her close. "Were you thinkin about your mom?"

"No," Libby said. "I was thinking about you."

Bellamy kissed the top of her head.


	19. Chapter 17

As the sun sank below the horizon on Unity Day, Libby opted to take Sterling's place on the wall watch. She'd had one drink and decided it wasn't for her; the stuff left the inside of her mouth and throat feeling raw. Instead of partying, she perched atop the wall near the gate, keeping one eye on the forest and the other on the increasingly raucous crowd.

Octavia slipped out of the compound shortly after dark. She darted from tree to tree, twirling a white lily between her fingers.

Where did the lily come from? Libby wondered. They don't grow near the camp. And where is she going? The latrine trench is the other way. Maybe I should follow her. But then nobody would be on watch. Oh wait-there's Finn. Is he following her?

Libby watched Finn for a minute.

I think he is following her. Okay, that's good. I'll stay here for now.

The night dragged on. Libby kept her hands busy with strips of cattail, braiding them together in different ways. She had a few ideas about trying basket-making, or making multipurpose mats. She coiled the braid into a spiral, but it wouldn't lay flat.

A branch cracked. Libby's head jerked up. It was Finn, creeping back into the camp. He slid between clumps of revelers, scanning the faces in the crowd.

Libby made a bet with herself that Finn was looking for Clarke.

He found her playing a drinking game with Fox and Sterling. Finn pulled Clarke aside, and they had a quiet, earnest conversation.

Bellamy, who was doing rounds of the camp's perimeter, came to a halt below Libby's perch.

"How's it look out there?" he asked.

"All clear," Libby said.

Clarke emerged from the crowd and approached Bellamy. "We need to talk." She glanced up. "Libby, you might as well hear this."

Bellamy offered his hand. Libby took it and hopped off the wall; Bellamy slowed her descent, and she landed squarely on her feet. Bellamy didn't let go of her hand.

"What's up, Clarke?" Libby said.

Clarke glanced around furtively. "Finn arranged a meeting with the Grounders."

"What? How?" Libby said.

"I don't know," Clarke said. "But I want you-Bellamy-to follow us. Bring guns."

"Does Finn know about this?" Bellamy said.

"He'll be happier not knowing," said Clarke.

"Understood," Bellamy said.

"I was thinking I could drop nuts on the ground as we walk," Clarke said. "Leave a trail for you guys to follow, so there's no chance Finn will see you."

"Sounds good," Libby said.

"We're leaving soon," said Clarke. "Make sure you get bullets that work. I should go, before Finn gets suspicious." With that, she melted back into the crowd.

Libby said, "I'll get back on wall watch and spot which way they go to start. You grab a couple people and guns."

"Sounds good. See you in five," Bellamy said, and left.

Libby climbed back onto the wall. She pretended to be intent on a different part of the forest as Clarke and Finn snuck away. They were headed toward the river, she noted, but in a slightly different direction than they'd ever gone before.

The river marks the edge of the Grounders' territory, Libby thought. It makes sense that they'd meet us there. There's probably neutral ground somewhere-maybe an island? I've never seen an island!

"We're ready." Bellamy's voice startled Libby out of her thoughts. He stood at the foot of the wall, one gun in his hands and another slung over his shoulder. Jasper and Raven were with him, similarly armed.

"What are they doing here?" Libby hopped down.

"Nice to see you, too," Jasper said bitingly.

"Sorry, I just-I thought we were keeping this operation small."

"Jasper's a good shot," Bellamy said, a bit defensively.

"And I'm watching my idiot boyfriend's back," Raven said fiercely.

"Fair enough," Libby said. "They're headed towards the river."

They moved between the trees in a tight knot. Libby left the safety on her weapon for the time being, but the others all held them at the ready.

"We cannot let a stray gunshot give us away," Libby commented.

"Good point." Bellamy clicked the safety on his gun.

"Sorry for bringing up Clarke earlier," Jasper said to Raven. "That was awkward."

Libby sighed. Jasper had never had much social grace.

"Shut up," Raven snapped.

"Both of you shut up," said Bellamy. "Keep your eyes open."

Every few hundred yards, Clarke dropped a handful of the hallucinogenic nuts. Between that and the signs Clarke and Finn left simply by walking-broken twigs, crushed ferns, and the occasional footprint-Libby and Bellamy had little trouble following the trail.

Shortly after sunrise, they came upon something unlike anything any of them had ever seen before: a road. It was badly broken apart, and plants grew in many of the gaps, but it was still recognizable as a road.

"Wow!" Libby knelt down and felt the asphalt. It was gritty and slightly sticky. "A real road! Do you think they drove cars on this?"

"Probably," Bellamy said. "Did you ever see those jay-pegs of the gigantic trucks they had for moving food and stuff?"

"That's great, nerds," Raven said. "But which way do we go?"

"I'd guess we keep going toward the river," Libby said. "Across the road."

"Wait, look at this!" Jasper pointed to a place on the road where a clear line had been scratched. A small piece of granite, evidently responsible for the mark, lay at one end of the line. "This looks fresh. Do you think Clarke put this here?"

"Maybe." Stepping carefully, Bellamy moved down the road in the direction indicated. "Here's one of those nuts. At least they're good for something."

"So we follow the road?" Raven said.

"Guess so," said Bellamy. "Let's stay at the edge, though. No point in risking ourselves out in the open."

They weren't on the road for long before they reached the river. Here was something even more amazing: a bridge. It was in better shape than the road. Clarke and Finn stood at the near end, their backs to the road.

"Let's find a good vantage point," Bellamy said.

"I think the best thing would be to climb into the trees," Libby said.

Bellamy shook his head. "Too risky. None of us are good climbers, and balancing a bulky gun in a tree would be dangerous. Let's go down into the riverbed and find a place where we can see the bridge clearly."

They did as Bellamy suggested, and found a place behind some autumn olive that offered them a clear view of the bridge and the other side of the river. Libby examined the autumn olive's berries, deemed them ripe, and began filling her pockets.

"Can you see them?" Raven asked.

"Yeah. They're still just standing there." Jasper was looking through the scope of his gun. "Wait-there's Octavia. What's she doing here?"

Bellamy was looking at the other end of the bridge. "Someone's coming."

Libby lifted her scope to her eye. The Grounder they'd held prisoner jogged into view, wearing Ark clothes. Octavia ran to meet him, and he engulfed her in a hug that lifted her off her feet.

"Oh," said Jasper despondently.

"Well, I guess we know how he escaped," said Raven wryly.

"Someone else is coming," said Bellamy. "Everybody stay quiet and low."

Libby braced her arms on her knees to hold her gun steady. Her left index finger hovered over the safety. The figures coming out of the woods looked exceptionally tall.

Raven gasped. "Oh my god! They've got horses!"

Sure enough, the new Grounders on the bridge were astride graceful four-legged creatures Libby had only seen in pictures. She admired the power in the horses' shoulders and necks. One of the horses sported two faces, spoiling the image somewhat, but also making them look more barbaric and powerful.

"They've got weapons," Bellamy said. "Guess Finn was wrong."

"Good thing they brought us," said Raven grimly.

Two of the riders dismounted. One, a woman, moved toward the center of the bridge. After a moment, Clarke moved to meet her.

"Guess that's their princess," Bellamy said. "Everyone stay sharp."

They sat in tense silence for several minutes. There was no way to discern what Clarke and the Grounder princess were saying over the noise of the river. Libby kept her scope trained on the Grounder guards, watching for any sign of movement towards their weapons.

Libby thought, it's weird they brought weapons. Don't peace talks usually have a no-weapon rule? I guess they don't trust us. Then again, we don't really trust them, do we, or else I wouldn't be here with a gun trained to that guy's head.

"Grounder Princess looks pissed," said Raven, amused.

"Our Princess can have that effect," said Bellamy.

Jasper shifted his weight. "Oh, no. No. This is bad."

"What is it, Jazz?" Libby didn't take her eyes off the Grounders.

"There's Grounders in the trees over there," Jasper said.

"What?" said Raven.

"Where? I don't see anything," Bellamy said.

"They've got their bows pointed at Clarke!" Jasper said.

"Guys, relax," said Libby. "They're here to watch their Princess's back, just like we are."

"I don't know," said Jasper. "You pull the bow back when you're ready to shoot it, right?"

"Shit, he's right," said Raven. "I see them."

"They're gonna shoot!" said Jasper. He stood up.

"Jasper, wait!" said Libby.

But it was too late. Jasper pulled the trigger, and a shower of bullets hit the trees on the other side of the river.

"Clarke run!" Jasper shouted. "Run!"

Clarke, Finn, and Octavia ducked as arrows hit the bridge. Jasper fired wildly, swinging his gun back and forth like a fire hose. Raven and Bellamy were more precise with their shots. Grounders fell out of the trees. A few of the Grounders fired at the gunmen.

Libby rose to her feet. "Guys, c'mon! Let's get out of here!" We've fucked up all chance of peace, she thought. Ouch! What the fuck? There's an arrow in my shoulder. Shit, that hurts.

"Libby!" Bellamy dropped his gun and ran to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Libby snapped. "Let's go, dumbasses!"

"Raven, cover us!" Bellamy lifted Libby and carried her out of the riverbed.

"My shoulder's hurt, not my legs! I can walk!" Libby said, though her shoulder hurt fiercely.

"Libby, run!" Jasper yelled.

They crashed recklessly through the undergrowth, Raven and Jasper panting behind them. They met Clarke, Finn, and Octavia at the road.

"What the hell?" said Finn.

"They shot Lincoln!" Octavia said.

"Who's Lincoln? The Grounder?" Libby said.

"Guys, this isn't the time. Let's go!" Raven grabbed Finn's hand and sprinted away.

"She's right." Bellamy scooped Libby up again. Blood was soaking through the sleeve of Libby's jacket. She reached up and snapped the shaft off the arrow, so nothing would hit it and make the wound worse.

They ran as far as they could, until everyone was gasping for air and Clarke called a halt. Bellamy set Libby down, and she staggered to a seat on a log.

"Let me look at that," Clarke said.

"I'll be fine until we get back to camp," Libby said through gritted teeth. "No medical stuff here."

"I guess you're right," Clarke said. "It looks like a clean shot, though."

"While we're stopped," said Finn, "what the fuck was that, guys? I said no guns, Clarke!"

"I told you we couldn't trust the Grounders," said Clarke, and "I was right."

Raven shook Finn's arm. "Why didn't you tell me what you were up to?"

"I tried," said Finn, "but you were too busy making bullets."

"You're lucky she did," said Bellamy. "They came here to kill you, Finn!"

"You don't know that!" said Finn. "Jasper fired the first shot!"

"You ruined everything," said Octavia, glaring at Jasper. She stalked away into the forest.

"Hey, I saved you!" said Jasper. "You're welcome, by the way!"

"We should keep moving," Clarke said. "Libby, can you walk?"

"Again: my legs are not shot," Libby said.

They set out, albeit slowly.

Finn said, "Well, if we weren't at war already, we sure as hell are now. You didn't have to trust the Grounders, Clarke. You just had to trust me."

"I do trust you," Clarke said. "You just happened to be wrong."

"Do we know that?" said Libby. "Finn said no weapons, but we showed up to cover Clarke just in case. Who's to say the Grounders weren't doing the same?"

"That guy was going to shoot Clarke!" Jasper said. "I had to do something!"

"I'm not so sure you did," Libby said.

"Seriously? You're not going to back me up on this?" said Jasper.

"It doesn't matter anymore," said Bellamy. "We both fired shots today. Libby's hurt. The Grounders lost people, too. I guess we're at war now."

"Well, shit," Libby said.

"Good thing the Exodus ship is coming soon," said Raven.

"How is that good?" said Finn. "They'll bring more guns, and they don't know the Grounders like we do!"

"I don't think we know the Grounders at all," Libby said. "I think we saw that today."

"What I saw was two peoples trying to protect themselves," said Bellamy. "That's a pretty strong commonality."

"Doesn't matter now," Clarke said. "From their perspective, we fired first. We ruined the peace talk. They'll come for us now. No doubt."

"I guess I have more bullets to make," Raven said.

The camp was quiet when they got back. A few people were up and about, but they looked extremely hungover. The returning party got a few surprised glances, but little else.

"Like I said," said Bellamy. "Best Unity Day ever."

"Libby, I want to bandage your shoulder ASAP," Clarke said. "And I'm worried this arrow is poisoned, too."

"If it is, we still have the antidote," Libby said.

The sound and light of an explosion drew everyone's attention to the sky.

"The Exodus ship?" said Bellamy.

"Great timing," said Raven.

Clarke's face lit up. "My mom's coming down. She'll be able to patch you up good, Libby."

"I'd prefer you do it, so it happens sooner rather than later," Libby said. Blood was dripping down her arm now, and she felt a little woozy.

"Wait," said Clarke. "They're going too fast. Something's wrong."

"Where's the parachute?" Raven said.

They could only stare in helpless horror as the Exodus ship, and all their hopes, fell on a straight trajectory and collided with the ground. A wave of heat and sound traveled miles to the camp, swaying them all on their feet. A multicolored mushroom cloud bloomed into the sky.

"No!" Clarke sank to her knees, bawling. "Mom!"


End file.
